And the Clock Struck Twelve
by Seraphim Starlight
Summary: It was a fairy tale threatening to go horribly wrong. Would they be able to set it right? GxN and a little LxT. Postgame, so there are LOTS of spoilers.
1. Reminisence

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: This takes place postgame so there are spoilers.

Princess Natalia Luzu Kimlasca Lanvaldear placed her quill back in the inkwell and, dropping her head into her hands, began to massage her temples. After a moment, she sat back in her chair and glanced down at the paper before before her. This was taking far longer than she had expected.

Reaching down, she picked up a small leather-bound book that sat beside her own book and began thumbing through the pages. Familiar words appeared on the pages: hyperresonance, Lorelei, Akzeriuth, Ion, the Sepiroth, Yulia, Qliphoth, miasma, Eldrant, Asch….

Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of that name, and she barely resisted the urge to trace the name with her fingertip as she so often had when she had been keeping her own diary of the events that led her and her five—no, six—companions to travel to the edges of Auldrant to protect their home from a madman's vision.

She snapped the book shut and tossed it onto the desk with a tired gesture. She turned her gaze out the window of her room. Her eyes scanned the sky until they came to rest on the Fon Belt.

Much had been sacrificed to achieve the peace which Auldrant now enjoyed; the basis of the whole world's faith had been overturned, the Planet Storm had been stopped, and Lorelei had been released into the Fon Belt. The world had been altered so drastically in just under a year that even now, only four years later, it already seemed difficult to believe that the world which they had known had once existed.

Already, and much too soon, most fonic artes had begun to lose strength and were threatening to disappear. When she had met with the others at Tataroo Valley on that same night a year ago when Luke had returned, Jade had mentioned offhand that there were no longer enough fonons in the atmosphere to support some of his higher level artes such as Absolute, Prism Sword and Meteor Storm.

She had not wished to admit then that her own healing powers had disappeared almost from the moment Lorelei had been released. The look on Jade's face told her that he expected something of the sort to happen, but then, why bother her about it? The loss of her powers was devastating enough—not as devastating as Asch's death, but still, devastating in its own way. She couldn't help but feel as though the Colonel had slapped her again.

She had wanted to ask Tear back then about her powers but had held back out of respect for the other woman. Tear had had enough on her mind back then to be bothered with such a personal question.

As her eyes fell back to the book on the table, she remembered the night in the flower field at Tataroo Valley. Back then, although she wished to believe as surely as Tear or Guy did that Luke would return, some small part of her had remained vengefully practical. That part of her, no matter how small, could not accept that Asch the original had died, and yet Luke the replica still lived. It was that same part of her that drove her to the Coming of Age ceremony when she knew full well that none of the others would be there. It had been her act of rebellion, as small, spiteful, and childish as it was. That part of her would not then accept.

It had been Tear who spotted him first, of course. When Natalia, who had turned away with Jade and the others, saw him, there had been a moment of uncertainty in her heart. For a moment, she had allowed herself to believe that the person standing at the other end of the flower field had not been Luke, but Asch.

But when he spoke of the promise that Luke had made with Tear before the destruction of Eldrant, she had known that it was not Asch, but Luke who had returned, Luke who had survived, not Asch. Not Asch…

It had almost been too much, though she dared not show it. She had not thought it possible, but now, Luke looked even more like Asch than before. That Asch was dead was terrible enough, but for there to be someone who wore the same face, who spoke in the same voice, but was not Asch was almost unbearable. Still, she had smiled and welcomed him back as the others did. It was, after all, the polite, if not difficult thing to do.

As usual, it had been Jade who had asked the question which she did not wish to hear. He had asked, in his usual cold-blooded way, how Luke had survived not only the destruction of Eldrant but also his impending death by the disappearance of his body. Luke had then recounted, as best he could, how Lorelei had reintegrated him with Asch to produce a complete being.

Natalia could not listen after that. Luke was explaining how Lorelei had saved him and what he had been doing for the past three years, but she could not listen. It was too much! It had to be! Why?! Why was it always Asch who had to sacrifice while Luke seemed to gain endlessly?!

She knew it was childish for her to think of it as unfair—unfair that Luke was alive, unfair that Tear…

She stopped. No. That was unfair of her. Tear had just as much right to be happy, if not more. Tear had suffered alone from the very beginning. It was Tear who had to bear the burden of killing her brother, the person she had been closest to in the world. Natalia knew that her own fight against Largo had been nothing compared to Tear's fight against Van. At least when all was said and done, Natalia had the luxury of returning to Baticul—to her waiting family. Tear had no such luxury. All she had left was her love for Luke. And now that he had finally returned, Tear could finally have the happiness that she deserved. Natalia knew she would not begrudge Tear that.

As the night in Tataroo Valley drew on, the group decided to head to the Keterburg Hotel to celebrate the reunion. It was in transit on the Albiore that Luke had pulled her aside and handed her his journal and a golden crest set with a small blue stone. He had told her that Asch had wanted him to give her the stone. When he had reintegrated with Asch, a small part of Asch's will had yet remained and had instructed him to give her the crest.

As much as she had wanted to, she could not bring herself to refuse the gift. He was simply doing what he believed was right, what he believed would bring her comfort. She could not fault him for that. Sadly, she realized she could not fault him for any of the things for which she had blamed him. He could not help that he had been born. He could not help that he looked like Asch. He could not help that he had survived. He was simply trying his hardest to live the life that had been granted to him through Lorelei's gift.

Yes, "gift" sounded much better than "sacrifice".

She thanked him, genuinely, for bringing the memento to her, and asked about the journal. He had said that he wanted her to record the events of their collective travels as a series of stories.

She had been surprised. What purpose would that serve.

He worried, even back then, that the world they had lived in—a world guided by the score and filled with the power of fonology—would eventually be forgotten. He had worried that eventually, what had been their reality would eventually sound as fantastical as the Dawn Age had originally sounded to them. He needed, he had said, the power of a princess' words to record the events truly. He had felt that people might give her words more credence than his, or any of the others' words.

She had not been certain whether his belief would prove true in the generations to come. People might just as easily doubt her words as they would anyone else's. But he had asked her, regardless. That look. He trusted her. If she did this, she could easily make future generations remember him as a villian who had killed thousands.

But no. She would not. He trusted her in this just as he had trusted her through all those battles. They had saved each other countless times. All that time, his true identity had bothered her little.

She stared at the Maestro Stone that she held in her hand. Asch was dead. She would have to accept that. She thought she had accepted it on that day in Eldrant. But now, she was determined to come to terms with her loss. She realized, with a start, that she had been avoiding it this whole time. The situation that day had not allowed her proper time to grieve, and since then, she had avoided grieving, hoping that, if she did not grieve for his death that it might restore his life. It had been a foolish notion, but it was all that had sustained her in the days since his death and Luke's disappearance.

She clutched the stone to her chest. As painful as it was to lose Asch, it would have been more painful to lose them both. It wasn't that she believed that Asch yet lived on in Luke's form, but that she would now see Asch's sacrifice—no, his _gift_—as that which gave Luke his life back.

Yes. Asch had wished for Luke to live. She would believe that. And there was no way she would deny Asch his wish. She would support Luke as best she could—not only for the sake of Asch's gift, but for Luke's sake as well.

She had told Luke then that she would do her best to recount the history of their group's struggle.

She would do the best she could—for her own sake as well.

But that was easier said than done, and brought her back to her current predicament.

She glanced back at the paper on her desk. Thus far, she had only chronicled up to the point where she had joined the group. It had been difficult to write as a narrative since she had not witnessed the events firsthand. She had wanted to write the history as a narrative, but it was difficult to fill in the details. She was forced to rely on whatever sparse details there were in Luke's diary as well as the answers she got in intermittent letters from the other group members—particularily Tear.

She pulled open one of the drawers in her desk and took out a stack of letters. She flipped through them.

Let's see. The first one was from Anise. She had sent that one when she had begun her reformation of the Order of Lorelei. Natalia glanced through the stack. At least eight of the…umm…twenty four letters were from Anise. Each letter was at least four full pages. My! Where on earth did she find the time to write so much. Well, Natalia supposed it must be easy for the girl, what with how much she ran her mouth anyway.

Since the stack was organized by sender—Natalia wondered when she had done that—it was easy to see that the next set of letters were from Luke and Tear. Since the group had seperated at Keterburg, the two of them had spent their time traveling between Yulia City and Daath. Luke had kept his word to Anise and had become her patron in her effort to reform the order. Tear meanwhile, coordinated the joint effort between Yulia City and Daath to establish a religion without the Score. It was difficult work trying to re-establish faith after the last system had failed so spectacularly. But if anyone could do it, they could. She was certain of that.

Oh, and surprise, surprise! There was even a letter from that aggravating Malkuth Colonel. She didn't remember this letter so she skimmed it quickly and immediately burst into laughter. That man! The nerve! Whereas the others had written simply to keep in contact, Jade had actually written to complain about some provision the current peace treaty and ask her if she would talk to the King about it.

She remembered now. She had indeed addressed the matter with her father and had written back to Jade about it. But instead of simply telling him what he needed to know, she had taken the time to write a long-winded letter, adding in only one sentence at the very end that told him her father's reply. He had not written to her since.

The last couple letters in the pile were from Guy. Mostly, they informed her of news of the others, the conditions in Malkuth, and most contained veiled complaints from the Colonel. She laughed to herself. Poor Guy, what he must have to deal with living in the same country as Jade.

She imagined the blond swordsman slaving over a letter while Jade dictated his complaints none too subtly in the background. And the poor Count was probably nice enough, or maybe frustrated enough, to pass along each of Jade's messages. Still, for a man who was likely being harangued each time he wrote a letter, Guy's letters were strangely polite, formal even. She supposed it was a habit he picked up while serving in the Fabre household.

Maybe he had just developed a habit of speaking to her politely. But really, she was getting sick of all the formality she had been buried in since her return to Baticul. How she missed the informal chats she had with her friends back during their travels. It was distressing that one of her friends had now reverted to such formal language just as he had used before their journey.

She momentarily considered writing him about that, but quickly decided that he didn't need to be nagged from her end as well.

As she put the letters back in the draw another thought struck her. Maybe he spoke that way now because he was actually being treated as nobility. She pushed the drawer closed. That's right. Guy, whom she had once thought of as her servant, was actually Count Gailardia Galan Gardios.

She frowned.

Even if she was royalty, it was unforgivable how she had treated him when she had been unaware of his true quality—especially considering the circumstances which had forced him to conceal his true identity. Especially considering how he had supported her when she had faced losing her status and her family. Regardless of how cruelly she had treated him in the past he had stood by her then and had said that if Kimlasca would not have her back that he would welcome her in Malkuth with open arms.

And she…never once had she apologized for anything. Never once had he asked her to. He had defended her when they were separated from the others in Absorption Gate. He had stood with her on the eve of the infiltration of Eldrant while she had waited for Asch whom she knew would not return to her. When Asch had died, he had offered his consolations as best he could. He had done all of this and never asked anything in return.

She owed him an apology. She did not doubt it, but she doubted whether it would ever be enough. Though he would not say it, there remained a debt to be paid. But how could she ever hope to repay it?

A sharp, staccatto rap on the door broke through the haze of her thoughts.

"Yes?", she called. "What is it?"

The door opened slightly revealing one of the White Knights.

He cleared his throat. "Your Highness, a messenger from Malkuth awaits you in the Audience Chamber."

She paused. A messenger from Malkuth? Why on earth…?

"Is my father not available to speak with him?" she asked.

The guard made an indeterminate sound. "Umm, well, Your Highness…yes, your father is there. But the messenger specifically requested to see you. He said that he had a personal letter to deliver to you."

She stood up suddenly. A letter? Well, this was interesting. She wondered, rather triumphantly, whether she'd be able to get a bit of her own back at Jade. It would be fun to say the least.

Composing her features into a mask of utter calm, she turned to the knight and said, "Please inform them that I will be right down."

"Yes, Your Highness," he said before pulling the door shut.

She gave herself a cursory glance in the full length mirror to make certain that her appearance was acceptable before she made her way down to the Audience Chamber.


	2. Invitation

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: This takes place postgame so there are spoilers.

As she walked into the Audience Chamber, she was relieved to see that the messenger had not yet been called in. Apparently her father had waited until she had arrived to address the matter. As she passed him, Alpine, her father's advisor, shot her a glare as though it was disrespectful that she should keep him waiting for so long.

Obsequious toad! Lately the man had seem to become even more intolerable—if that was even possible. If only she had her bow and arrows with her right now. She would have shot him one when he wasn't looking. Though, she supposed, that might have been most unladylike, not to mention undignified, it was bound to be most satisfying.

Instead, she smiled as pleasant a smile as she could muster and glided past him to her chair at the head of the room.

Moments later, the giant doors the to Audience Chamber opened, and a familiar blond swordsman stepped into the room.

Her hands tightened unconciously on the chair's armrests, and she threw a quick glance to her father. He nodded once, indicating that it was all right for her to greet her friend. Off in his corner, Alpine made some kind of disapproving sound, but she happily ignored him.

She stepped forward to greet him.

"Count Gailardia," she said. "It is a pleasure to see you again." She curtsied as was the custom. "I pray you are well?"

He bowed. "Your Highness," he began, "the pleasure is all mine. I am well. Thank you for your concern. I take it you are well?"

"I am, thank you."

They paused somewhat awkwardly. Despite the tone of his letters, he clearly was not used to such formal speech yet.

"I heard that you have a message from Malkuth for me," she said. "Is that correct?"

He seemed momentarily startled. "Oh that's right. Hang on a sec." He began to dig around in his bag, searching for the letter. She smiled to herself. Without the strange formal speech he was, essentially, just as she remembered him.

After a few seconds he pulled out a scroll that bore the seal of Emperor Peony the Ninth of the Malkuth Empire and handed it to her.

"What is…"

"The Emperor wanted that delivered to you. At first he was going to send Jade, but…"

She cut him off. "Thank you. I can only imagine what would have happened if you hadn't come instead."

He laughed. "It wouldn't have been pretty to say the least."

She joined in. "That would have been a given."

"Still," he said after a brief pause, "what happened…you know…to make you two dislike each other so much? Is it because he's from Malkuth? I mean, you two got along all right while we were all traveling together. Then, it suddenly seemed as though…."

His voice trailed off when she suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, drawing stares from all present. She nearly doubled over from laughing, prompting him to ask if she was all right.

She waved him away then, after a moment when she had regained enough composure to speak she said, "Don't worry, Guy, it's nothing like that."

He seemed puzzled but waited for her to continue.

"It's not that I hate him because he's from Malkuth or anything like that. I simply find the man intolerable. I mean," she stifled another giggle, "it was one thing to put up with him and his constant…jokes…when we were all traveling together, but once that was over, I simply decided that enough was enough. I've just decided that turnabout's fair play, that's all." Unconciously, she reached out to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "So don't worry…"

Her voice trailed off when she looked up and saw that he was suddenly standing several feet away looking rather distressed.

She pulled back her hand. "Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten. Sorry Guy."

He pretended to straighten the collar of his shirt. "No problem," he said. "Just, please, don't do it again."

She laughed again. Some things would never change. For a moment, she was lost in her own thoughts, memories of the past, but Alpine's booming voice broke into her reverie.

"Princess. If I may ask, what did the letter say?"

Letter? What…?

She looked down at her hand and saw that she still held the scroll. Oh. That.

She broke the seal and quickly scanned the letter. Her eyes widened as she did so. Turning to Guy who still lingered a few feet away, she asked in as calm a voice as she could manage, "What on earth is THIS?!"

Her shout drew concerned glances from all around the room. Some of the guards even shifted from their relaxed positions to more alert stances. She knew Alpine had started forward as well.

"Your Highness, what did the letter say," he asked again.

She chose not to answer him and, instead, kept her gaze fixed on Guy. She waved the letter at him. "Explain this," she demanded. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"It is exactly what it appears to be," he said at last.

She studied his features, trying to read him. For all the time she had known him, which had been considerable indeed, he had rarely lied and had only done so when it was absolutely necessary. Still, when he wanted to, he could be difficult to read. Not as difficult as Jade, but still….

"Ah ha!" she said, pointing triumphantly at him.

He flinched. "What?"

She set her chin and placed one of her hands on her hip while waving the letter in the air with the other. "I get it now."

"What?" he asked again, visibly confused.

"This," she said, gesturing with the letter, "is one of the Colonel's tricks, isn't it? I mean, I should have seen it coming! Of course! This is _just_ the kind of thing he would do, isn't it?" She laughed. "I had wondered what he had been doing these past few months when he hadn't written back to complain about something else. But still, I'd never have imagined this!"

She studied the letter again. "But this scheme is brilliant! Completely and utterly brilliant! But I never would have imagined that he would have persuaded the Emperor to let him do _this_."

He started back towards her. "Umm, Natalia…I mean, Your Highness," he hastily corrected upon receiving a venomous glare from Alpine, "that letter is no trick. It really was sent by His Majesty." He hesitated, then added cautiously, "True, Jade did suggest the idea, but he meant it as a way to help his friend—not to trick you."

Her face paled as she looked from him to the letter and back again.

"You mean…?"

Oh Lorelei no.

"Yes," he said. "Emperor Peony the Ninth of the Malkuth Empire is considering you as a potential bride."


	3. Consolation

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

**Disclaimer**: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

**Author's Note**: A big thank you to Fox of Anubis, b4k4 ch4n, and Silver Nightingale for the reviews. They mean so much to me .

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The reaction was instantaneous. Natalia all but fainted and had to be escorted back to her seat by General Goldberg who seemed to be the only one in the room with enough presence of mind to help her. Guy meanwhile was forced to back away from Alpine who was making rather vocal demands that the letter be read aloud and calling for the guards to arrest Guy for something that sounded a lot like treason. Guy was busy saying something about not shooting the messenger.

At last, it was the King who brought order to the chaos in the Audience Chamber.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed, immediately silencing Alpine and sending the guards scurrying back to their posts. "This young man has done nothing wrong. He will not be arrested. But I do agree with Alpine that the letter must be read aloud." He turned to Guy. "I trust there are no objections."

"Of course not, Your Majesty. The letter was sent with the intent of making you aware of the Emperor's proposal. I simply thought it better for the Princess to see the letter first." Guy handed the letter to Goldberg who had come to retrieve it.

The King nodded. "Of course, I understand." He turned to Goldberg who had since unfurled the scroll and nodded for him to begin.

Goldberg cleared his throat cerimoniously and began to read:

_Princess Natalia of Kimlasca-Lavaldear,_

_Your presence is hereby requested at a three night series of parties given by Emperor Peony the Ninth of the Malkuth Empire, during which time the Emperor will select a wife from among the eligible nobility attending. As you are now of marriageable age, we hereby request that you attend the ceremony not only as a emissary of the most honorable Kingdom of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, but as a potential bride for His Majesty. We look forward to your presence at Grand Chokmah in one week._

_We have sent this letter in the hands of a most trustworthy messenger, Count Gailardia Galan Gardios whom we have asked to escort you to Grand Chokmah. You are free, however, to bring whomever else you wish, although, if they are not of the nobility, they will be ineligible to attend the parties. _

_His Majesty looks forward to your presence._

The letter trailed off into a long list of names—presumably the members of Peony's council. Natalia didn't know, and, frankly, she didn't care. Although the shock of the word "bride" had finally begun to wear off, the anticipation of the parties had filled her stomach with a nauseating sense of dread.

Her father leaned over to her and asked if she was all right. Inwardly she cursed herself for letting such weakness show. She said that she was all right.

"Will you go?" he asked her after a moment.

"I suppose I must," she said. "For the honor of Kimlasca."

A frown formed momentarily at the corners of his mouth but quickly disappeared. "And if the Emperor should choose you?"

It was her turn to frown. "I suppose," she said with great resignation, "I will do what I must."

He sat back in his chair and prepared to give her answer. At the last second he turned to her and said, "I will not force you to go."

She sighed and looked away. "But duty will," she said at last.

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Natalia kept to her chambers for the rest of the evening. She ran the morning's events through her head over and over again. What she couldn't get out of her mind were her father's words. _And if the Emperor should choose you?_

She sighed. She had said she would—that she would fulfill her duty as a princess and marry for the good of her country. She had said she would, but as she knew all too well things were often easier said than done.

If it came down to it, could she marry the Emperor, a man who was at least twenty years older than she? Could she marry him, live with him, have children with him? The more she thought about it, the more certainly she knew that she, as an individual could not, but she knew that, for the sake of her country and her people she would.

There were not many times in her life that she hated being a princess. True, when she was younger she had resented all the etiquette lessons and such and had especially hated being confined to the castle. But had she remained Meryl and not become Natalia, she thought with a twinge, she might never have met Asch, or Luke, or Guy, or any of the others. Had she not been the princess of Kimlasca, she might never have become involved in the quest to save their world. She might not have been able to save her friends or the people of Auldrant who were so dear to her. Had she not been a princess, she would likely not be the person she was today.

But now….

For the first time in a long time she hated the way duty to her country ruled her life.

Yes, she wanted to marry for the good of her people. She wanted them to be happy, but…she too wanted to be happy. Was it selfish to think that way? Why couldn't it be that the person who was good for her country was also good for her?

She had no doubt that she would be well taken care of if she were to marry the Emperor. But could she be happy? Could she really? She pulled out the Maestro Stone which she now wore on a necklace and ran her thumb over the surface of the jewel. As she did so she asked herself again whether she could be happy as the Emperor's wife. Somehow, it did not surprise her when her answer turned out to be "no".

A sharp knock startled her, and she let the necklace drop back into her dress.

"Yes?" she called again. She waited for a response, but the knocking only continued. Puzzled, she opened her room door and poked her head out into the hallway.

It was empty, except for a guard at the far end. She saw him look curiously at her, but she smiled and pulled her head back through the doorway.

As she pulled the door shut behind her, she was irritated to find that the knocking still continued. At first she thought that maybe someone in one of the adjacent rooms was knocking on the wall between the rooms, but quickly dismissed that thought. As she turned around her heart nearly stopped beating.

At her window stood a man who was apparently too busy hauling something up from another ledge to notice that she had noticed him. It took a moment for her to recognize that it was not a stranger but Guy.

For a brief moment, she had the urge to kick him back out the window but restrained herself. It was, after all, a decent drop to the ground below. Instead, she tapped him on the shoulder and waited for him to turn around. When he did, she fixed him with her best glare.

He seemed to stifle a scream and all but threw himself back out the window, barely grabbing onto the window ledge. She had screamed when she thought he was going to fall, and that had brought the guard from down the hall running.

The guard pounded on the door. "Your Highness! Are you okay?!"

"Umm, yes…" she called, trying to sound natural while trying to pull Guy back through the window. "I'm fine," she reassured the guard.

Really, she wasn't having much luck helping Guy who seemed more disturbed by the fact that she _was_ trying to help him rather than by the fact that he was hanging from a window ledge by one hand.

She let out a relieved sigh when she heard the guard's footsteps vanish into the distance and did not notice that Guy was handing her a rope that was tied to some kind of bag that rested on the window ledge a story below. Understanding what he wanted her to do, she proceeded to pull the bag up to her window before stepping back to allow him to pull himself up.

When he had made it safely back through the window he let himself drop down to the ground where he took several deep breaths to try to compose himself.

"You scared me half to death!" he said after a few minutes.

She frowned. "I think that should be _my_ line, Guy." She fixed him with another glare. "What are you doing here anyway? If you'd wanted to speak with me, you could have called for me you know. You didn't need to nearly kill yourself. What on earth could have been so important that…"

Her words drifted off when he pointed to the bag that she had pulled up earlier.

"You want me to open it?"

He nodded.

Inside the canvas bag was a bowl of fruit cocktail and a waterskin.

She smiled despite herself.

"Is that what you were doing? Bringing me lunch?"

He laughed weakly. "Dinner's more like it."

She frowned. "Is it that late already?"

"Yeah," he said, standing. "You've been locked up in here for most of the day. I overheard the maids say that you didn't answer when they called for dinner. So I borrowed some ingredients from the kitchen and brought them here."

"Through the window," she reminded him as she picked a piece of kirima out of the mix.

"Well, I couldn't think of anything else!" he huffed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I was worried that the guards might think I was trying to poison you or something, especially after that ruckus this morning!"

"Are you?" she asked, deliberately refraining from eating the piece of apple she had picked up. She wanted to tease him a bit.

He turned pale then flushed several shades of red. "O..of course not!" he stammered out at last. "Do you really think that I would…"

"No," she said confidently taking a bit out of the apple slice. "No, I don't."

He let out a sigh. "Oh thank Lorelei. For a second I thought you were going to call for the guards." He laughed nervously.

She picked up another piece of apple and nibbled on it thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should," she said after a moment.

He paled. "What?!"

She finished off the apple slice and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, there _is_ a strange man in my room…" She trailed off meaningfully.

His eyes widened. "N..Natalia, you wouldn't…"

She sucked in a large breath as though she would scream, and turned back to cast an evil glare at him. She was surprised to find that he was already beside her, hands on her shoulders asking her in a painfully pleading tone not to call the guards.

"Please, please don't call them! If you do, they'll lock me up for sure! Or behead me or something like that!"

She looked at him, genuinely surprised. "What on earth do you mean?"

He seemed to relax and sat down across from her, the bowl of food in between them.

He grabbed a piece of amango and chewed on it nervously.

"Well," he began, "this morning after you told everyone the contents of the letter, that man, Alpine, had threatened to have me arrested and I thought…"

She chuckled to herself. "Oh don't worry about that," she said reaching for another piece of kirima, "Alpine's just got his beard in a knot because of the Emperor's…proposal. You see, for the past year and a half he's been trying to marry me off to his son."

Guy seemed surprised.

She continued. "But Alpine's son is just a greedy, power-hungry toad who doesn't have the common sense to try and hide it." She shook her head. "I was against it, General Goldberg was against it, and most importantly, my father was against it. Still, before now, he was the only suitor of sufficient quality to court someone of my rank. Alpine probably figured that all he had to do was wait, and I would eventually give in."

Guy reached for a piece of apple. "I guess he doesn't know you very well then."

She laughed. "I guess not. I mean, you'd _think_ he'd know that I wouldn't choose a person simply because they were the only suitor available, but I guess some people are simply incapable of learning."

They fell silent for a moment. She picked a juicy looking strawberry out of the bowl but hesistated before eating it.

"So," she said, twirling the strawberry around by what little remained of its stem, "why fruit cocktail?"

"Huh?" He looked up suddenly from a piece of kirma that he had just begun to chew on.

"Why fruit cocktail?"

He laughed. "Well, you always did have something of a sweet tooth, so I figured I could at least convince you to eat this. And you know me, this is the closest I get to cooking something sweet."

"Besides," he said after finishing off his piece of kirima, "I don't think the Emperor would be happy with me if I let his potential bride starve to death."

Her face fell. From the way his expression changed she could tell he regretted what he had said.

She dropped the uneaten strawberry back into the bowl and looked away.

"Natalia…"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "No," she said, "it's all right." She paused then gave a mirthless laugh. "I guess I should feel honored, shouldn't I? Being chosen as the Emperor's potential bride."

"Note the word 'potential'," he said.

She looked up, surprised to find him studying her carefully. "What?"

He shook his head and made sighed. "You and Luke are so alike, you know? Leave you alone for a few minutes and you're liable to start dreaming up nonsense."

She sent a rather venemous glare in his direction. "What do you mean 'nonsense'?"

He sighed again. "What I mean is, here you are getting all worked up over getting married to the Emperor when there is no guarantee that he will choose you in the first place. Eligible women from all over the world will be attending that ball. He will have more than his pick from both countries."

"But…"she began.

He smiled. "But what? Yes, you're the Kimlascan princess. And yes, some people will push for him to choose you, but there are just as many, if not more people who are pushing for him to choose someone from Malkuth—people who want to keep the two countries separate."

"But why would they want to do that? Wouldn't it be better if the two countries are united?"

He stretched. "Do you think it would be better?"

"Definitely." She hesitated. "Okay, maybe. I can see where you're coming from. Just because the two countries unite doesn't mean that the fighting will end. I can…understand that. But still, I'd like to think that such a pooling of our countries' resources would be for the best—that by doing such a thing we'd be able to help not only the people in Kimlasca but also the people in Malkuth. Such a thing could only for the best. Don't you think so?"

He studied her carefully before reaching into the bowl and picking up the strawberry she had dropped earlier. "I think," he said at last, "that you should eat some more. You've only had a few pieces of fruit, and I don't think that is enough to replace two missed meals." He smiled and held the strawberry out to her by the stem.

She had no idea what possessed her at the moment, but a deliciously wicked idea popped into her head. Instead of simply taking the strawberry from his hand, as she would have normally, she leaned forward and took a leisurely bite out of the end of the strawberry.

A droplet of juice slithered down one side of her chin. She would have reached up to wipe it away herself, but she was more than a little surprised to find that he had already done so.

His fingertips lingered against her face longer than she thought they would have. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as he slowly trailed his fingers across her chin tracing the curve of her lower lip.

As she looked up at him, she was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. For the first time, she noticed what a bright, vibrant blue his eyes were even in the fading light of the afternoon.

Something fluttered deep in her chest behind a door which she had thought might never open again. It beat against the bars of her heart with a strength she had had not expected. Briefly her mind drifted back to that day in Inista Marsh when he had said that she could go with him to Malkuth.

She released a breath she had not realized she had been holding. The sound startled him, and he pulled away, almost involuntarily.

"I…apologize, Your Highness," he said, quickly turning away and hiding his face in his hands. "I overstepped my bounds."

For a moment, he seemed at a loss for what to do. He turned around until his eyes lighted on the same window he had come through.He started for it, but, instinctively, she stood and grabbed hold of his wrist. He did not turn to look at her, but, to her surprise, he did not pull away either.

"Please, Your Highness," he said in a quiet voice, "please let me go. I…"

She was surprised by the note of pleading in his voice; it was so different from earlier when he had pleaded with her not to call for the guards. This time, his voice was subdued, as though he was struggling against himself for some reason.

Oh. She let her hand slip from his wrist. He walked over to the window and hauled himself up on the ledge. As he began climbing down, she heard him say, "Take care of yourself, Your Highness. I will see you tomorrow."

She could not find her voice, and instead let her silence accompany him.

It took her a moment for the shock of what had just happened to wear off. She was surprised to find that, at some point she had begun to cry. Her chest heaved as she forced herself to draw breath to try to stifle the sobs that had burgeoned somewhere deep within her frame. She could not—could not allow herself to imagine why she had been affected thus. It would not do. It would not do.

The thought of her people and her duty to them would not allow what had awakened in her after all this time. Despite what he had said earlier, she could not ignore the fact that she might, in all likelihood, end up married to the Emperor. It would not happen. She could not let it. If she did, it would only lead to more pain that she could hope to endure.

She did not know what to do. All she could do was try to stifle her sobs and wipe the tears from her face. And all she did know was that her pendant lay heavy and cold against her breast.

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**Author's Note:**

Yay! I finally got to write some fluff! They're one of the cuuutest couples I've ever seen, and it's fun to write them because I see their relationship as being very subtle with little moments like this being the most important. Of course, there is the angst, but, what would romance be without angst??? Anyways, starting next chapter, I'll be writing in Guy's point of view as well.


	4. His and Her Feelings

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Everybody, thank you so much for your reviews! I feel so motivated and insipired now. I'll do my best to get more posted as soon as possible.

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Guy climbed back down quickly and easly despite the numbness that threatened to overwhelm him. Once he was back on the first floor, he let himself back into the guest room through a nearby window, and was relatively pleased to notice that he had not been missed. Likely, the staff had been ordered not to disturb him.

Back inside the safety of his room, he allowed the weakness he had been fighting back to take over. He slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands.

How could he do that to her? How could he give her false hope when he knew that every word she had spoken was true—that if the Emperor chose anyone it would most likely be her?

He dug his nails into his scalp as though that might relieve some of the tension that was building inside his skull.

When he had first heard of Jade's plan to help the Emperor find a wife, he had been happy to help, even if the plan had seemed a little strange to say the least. And he had known from the beginning that Natalia, as the Princess of Kimlasca, would have to be involved. He had thought he could bear that, even knowing that when he met her at the dances, she would have come, for all intents and purposes, as the intended of another man.

He had thought then that he could bear it—that he could lock away what he had almost let escape him in Inista Marsh. He had said then that her people loved her, that her country loved her. He could not bring himself then to add the third.

He had known then that her happiness would become the most important thing to him, but he also knew that her happiness was inextricably linked to the happiness of her people. And even though he would do all he could to ensure her personal happiness, he knew he had nowhere near the power to ensure the happiness of her people. In the end, she would choose someone who could. He was certain of that much.

So for nearly four years he pretended—pretended that he had not seen what he saw in her eyes in Inista Marsh, pretended that he did not feel the same, pretended that things would be all right.

He would bear this as he had everything else in his life—silently.

And he had promised himself that he would never do this to her—that he would never let her know what he felt or how deeply he felt it. It was to be his first and only gift to her. It was the only one he had allowed himself to give.

A dry rasping sound worked its way up from his gut and forced its way through his lips. Desperate to stifle the sound, he bit down hard on the side of his right hand. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and dripped down the side of his chin. But there was no one to wipe it away from him.

He stood and moved over to his small bag of belongings and rifled through it for something to use as a bandage. He found a dark colored handkerchief, wiped the side of his mouth and clumsily bandaged his hand.

The wound itself was nothing compared to some of the ones he had sustained during their journeys, but coupled with the desperate ache growing in his chest it felt as though it could easily be the worst of the the lot.

But the pain had served its purpose. Although not enough of a distraction for him to forget his current thoughts, it did stop the tremors that had begun to shake him.

But never before had he felt this strongly. Perhaps it had been easier during the long period of time since he had last seen her to forget just how much he…

He tensed his injured hand again, willing the pain to intensify. A burning sensation blossomed in his hand, breaking his current train of thought. He closed his eyes and sank down on the bed willing himself to be far away—out of this room, out of the castle, out of Baticul, out of Kimlasca even! He thought of his small estate just to the east of Grand Chokmah. It was a place where he could be safe, far away—where it would be easier to forget the light in her eyes, the grace of her movements, the lilt of her voice. He wished he could be there, far away from Baticul. He wished he could still be there.

Although he accepted that the Emperor would have to consider her along with all the other nobles attending the ball and that she would have to be escorted to Malkuth by an emissary, as per both Malkuthian and Kimlascan tradition, he had not expected to chosen for the job. He'd nearly had a heart attack when Jade had recommended him for the assignment. He and Jade had been in a formal audience with the Emperor and the time that the Colonel had made the announcement, so he didn't have an opportunity to vent any of the rage that had built up inside him or to protest the assignment.

He had been surprised at Jade's suggestion, but not at the Emperor's approval. To the Emperor, he was merely an old friend of the Kimlascan princess, but he had at least expected Jade to know—Jade who was so terrifyingly perceptive.

In fact, from the evil smirk that had _ever_ so briefly appeared on Jade's face during his initial suggestion for the assignment, Guy suspected that Jade knew.

Did that man really like—experimenting on—no, torturing people so much that he would stoop this low?! But why else would that damned Colonel send him when he knew the truth of the situation? Still, it would have been wrong to reject a seemingly innocuous assignment to escort the Princess of Kimlasca, especially when said escort had traveled with her before.

Jade, that bastard! He had to have known.

But still, Guy couldn't blame everything on the Colonel, no matter how much he wanted to. It wasn't Jade's fault that he was too weak. It wasn't Jade's fault that he had slipped. It wasn't Jade's fault that he broke the oath which he had made himself swear every day for nearly four years. It was his own fault. And now, he would have to live with his mistake.

He had never meant to hurt her; he couldn't even be certain if he had.

He sighed.

Maybe, he was the only who felt anything. Things had certainly changed since the journey through Inista Marsh. She might no longer feel what she had felt back then—if she had even felt anything at all. Maybe, he was the only one who had ever felt anything.

And if he was the only one suffering, he was fine with that.

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Sunrise followed a sleepless night for the young Princess of Kimlasca. Much to her dismay, she found that dark circles had begun to form under her eyes. She sighed. After barely eating and not sleeping at all what could she expect?

She resisted the urge to just flop back down on the bed and trying to go back to sleep, but she knew that her father would be anxious to see her after her "disappearance" after the audience yesterday.

She ran her hands over the front of her dress, wondering if she could smooth the wrinkles out, but it was a lost cause. As she moved over to her dresser, she hesitated when her gaze lighted on the bowl of fruit cocktail that still sat untouched on the floor. She was uncertain what to do with it. If she didn't hide it, the maids would find it, and it might raise questions that she really didn't feel like answering. But, to move it…

Frowning, she realized that she was being utterly foolish. It was just a bowl, for Lorelei's sake! It shouldn't matter that _he_ had brought it to her, or that they had eaten it together, or that she had done something incredibly foolish and inconsiderate.

How could she have done that to him? What on earth had she expected? He had been afraid of women for the whole time she had known him. Why then had she thought that he would kiss her? And why had she thought she would like it?

Every ounce of her common sense told her that he would not kiss her, or even touch her.But he had. And the place where his fingertips had rested against her skin still burned.

Had he only been humoring her? Playing along with what she would only dare to call her whim? She frowned.But it wasn't a whim. She was scared to say it, but it was more of a compulsion—a need—than anything else.

But it had been her need, not his, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she had used him. She had forced him into the situation, and out of politeness, he had gone along with it.

There could be no other explanation for his reaction. It had been so smooth, and flawless, as though it had been planned for just this siutation. That had to be it.

He could not have done what he had done willingly. Not only had he suffered for most of his life from a paralyzing fear of women, but, before she had come to know him, she had cruelly made him fear her. She had tormented him almost from the first moment she had known him—had dogged him with her taunts and her orders. Yet, he had always treated her kindly, whether it had been out of fear, respect, or pity. The thought of her using him as terribly as she had turned painfully in her gut.

No. She had no right to expect anything from him. She didn't even have the right to ask. And she certainly didn't have the right to do what she had done to him. He was a good human being; he did not deserve to be tortured.

A quiet tapping on her bedroom door startled her. It must be one of the maids, especially at this time in the morning.

"Come in," she called, barely able to keep her tone level.

The door opened, and a maid peeked around the corner.

Natalia relaxed. They had sent poor Laura, the newest of the maids hired at the castle. She had been so timid on her first day that she had accidentally dropped the tray with Alpine's breakfast. She had been so afraid of the man that she cried for weeks until the Princess had finally stepped in on her behalf. Ever since then the two had become relatively close.

"Your Highness," she began quietly, "I came to tell you that breakfast has been served." She paused for a moment, then added, "I thought that you might especially want to know since you missed both lunch and supper."

She couldn't help similing at the young woman. "Thank you, Laura. I appreciate your kindness."

The maid gave a quick curtsy and would have shut the door had she not noticed the bowl sitting in the middle of the floor.

"Umm, Your Highness?"

"Yes?"

"About that bowl?"

Natalia's face fell. "Oh…right."

"Would you like me to take that back to the kitchen?"

"Would you?"

Laura smiled. "Of course, Your Highness"

Natalia hesitated for a second before adding, "And could you tell them that you brought that up for me yesterday?"

The girl looked a bit surprised but nodded. "Of course, I would be happy to help."

Laura took the bowl, somehow managed to curtsy again while holding the bowl, and pulled the door shut. Natalia silently thanked the girl for not asking how she had really ended up with the bowl, knowing that Laura was likely desperate to ask.

Nevertheless, the bowl was finally gone, and it was time to head down for breakfast. Natalia opened her warbdrobe and quickly selected a simple green gown. She changed her clothes, washed her face in the wash basin, brushed her hair, and headed for the dining room.

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**Author's Note: **

Oh, more angst…sigh, but I suppose in a relationship like their's it probably can't be helped. They remind me of another one of my favorite couples, Seth and Eirika from Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones. I'm writing them in a similar way—both bound by duty and tradition. Thus, this story will likely be angsty for a good portion of the time, but I'll try to squeeze some more fun and fluff in here.


	5. Doubt and Duty

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Again, thank you so much for all the reviews! Oh, and there were some questions left in the reviews, (one that won't give away anything from the upcoming chapters) so I thought I'd answer them here.

**Silver Nightingale**- Actually, yes. All the chapters I have posted thus far have been pre-written. The only thing was that it actually took me about three days to write all that. The only delay was between the time I finished writing them and the time I posted them. I tend to write very quickly, and my schedule now allows me to do so. So, updates will probably still come quickly, just not as quickly as they have been. Mostly likely two or three days will pass between updates unless I get swamped with work or something. ;

**The King of Flames**- I LOVE Kare Kano. It was one of the first anime series I watched. I was thinking about that show when I named the chapter. It fit so perfectly, and I just couldn't resist a shout out to one of my favorite series.

Also, I'd like to give a big thank you to every one who reviewed Chapters 3 and 4. I'm sorry I didn't list you all, but I just don't want the intro to get too long. But hugs thanks so much!

And now, to the story.

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Natalia was displeased to find that, despite her delay, breakfast had not yet started. When she walked into the dining room, she found her father, Alpine, Goldberg, and guy all present. Four empty chairs remained, two for the Fabres, one for Luke, and one for her. Her father and Goldberg acknowledged her when she walked in; Alpine seemed distressed, for some reason, and did not appear to have seen her come in. Guy looked up quickly then glanced back down, seemingly fascinated by the blue charger plate in front of him.

She should have known that he would not have reacted. He did not even acknowledge that something had happened the previous evening. Well, actually, nothing had happened.; nothing had changed. She should have known; he was just playing along.

She slipped into her seat at the far end of the table. Her eyes rested momentarily on the blond swordsman, but never left her plate after that.

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Breakfast passed quickly, but with much conversation. Guy had announced that he planned to head out for Chesedonia by ship tomorrow morning. After overnighting in Chesedonia, he planned to head back to Grand Chokmah by ship the following morning.

Alpine had intially objected to an overnight stay in Chesedonia,—the Princess was certain that he suspected Guy of something, but of what she was not wholly certain—but he had withdrawn his objection after Guy had said that he had only suggested it out of concern for the Princess' health. Alpine dared not object to that.

The King had approved the plan and had suggested that they send a small detachment of soldiers to accompany them. The words were barely out of his mouth before she had said that she would travel with just her escort.

She had not been surprised when Alpine had roared in opposition. In his corner, Guy had nearly choked on whatever he had been drinking. Her father, however, simply asked her reasoning.

She had said that she did not wish to appear as though she did not trust Malkuth by appearing with Kimlascan soldiers in her party. As for other attendants, the maids were, for the most part, not accustomed to such travel.

Goldberg had suggested that General Cecille accompany her.

Natalia had immediately rejected that suggestion. It had been only a few years since the death of Cecille's fiancée General Frings of Malkuth. Natalia had added in a quiet voice that she knew, as keenly as any, that the pain of losing one so dear did not subside after just four years.

That had effectively ended the discussion about Cecille. Her father, Alpine and Goldberg began discussing her suggestion of travelling virutally unaccompanied quietly at the other end of the table. Guy, meanwhile, looked over and her, and started to say something. Her father, however, interrupted him to say that he would grant them permission to travel alone.

She thanked her father and glanced back over at Guy to remind him to do the same. He had already begun to discuss the route they were to take between Baticul and Grand Chokmah in further detail. Afterwards, the three men talked briefly about what had inspired the Emperor's idea, Alpine listening in somewhat grudgingly.

Soon enough Alpine and Goldberg both excused themselves, Goldberg saying that he had a meeting with General Cecille and Alpine saying that he had some "state business" to attend to. Natalia had a vague idea what he meant, and hoped fervently that she would be able to avoid his son at the party.

She was glad to see, however, that Guy and her father were enjoying some conversation about the Emperor's unique idea. But she knew that their getting along would mean little in the end.

Realizing that she had much to prepare before her long journey tomorrow, she quickly excused herself from the table and headed for her chambers, summoning Laura along the way.

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"How about this one, your Highness?"

Laura held up a gown that was a strange shade of turquoise and was covered in giant sequins. The maid made a face and laughed. "I'm certain it would look positively ravishing!"

They both laughed, and Natalia added, "Though I'm certain it would, I think that's a no."

Laura returned the rejected gown to the armoire and pulled out another one. She held it up for the Princess to see.

"What about this one? It's a beautiful shade of blue. I really think it would look good on you. It would suit your complexion well."

There was no response. Laura turnred her attention away from the gown and looked over towards the Princess. "Your Highness?"

Natalia snapped back to attention. "Uh…yes," she stammered, "I think that's a nice gown. I think I'll take that one with me."

Laura placed the gown in a large travelling trunk before turning back to the Princess.

"Your Highness, may I speak freely?"

Natalia was genuinely startled by the question. "Y..yes, of course."

The maid frowned and hesitated briefly before saying, "Well…it's just," she sighed, " Your Highness seems…unsettled of late—ever since the announcement of the Emperor's 'proposal'. I was wondering if…"

"I was in love with someone else?" she added offhandedly.

The poor maid flushed bright red but nodded. "Yes, ma'am. From the way you've been sighing lately, we've just been wondering if you've been having guy problems."

The princess practically colored from head to foot. "G…g…guy problems?!" she sputtered.

The maid nodded again. "We all figured that you've had your heart set on someone else, ever since what happened four years ago. We're not really sure, but you've been anxious ever since that message arrived."

Natalia laughed to herself. More likely the _messenger_ than the message. But it was best not to let the conversation stray down _that_ path. "Did you ever think that maybe I'm just not interested in marrying the Emperor?" She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

The maid seemed surprised that her Princess was being so candid. "Um, yes, Your Highness, but…well, we know how much you care about Kimlasca, and well…we figured that you would do what was best for the country." Laura hesitated for a moment before quickly adding, "But, it's not like that's all we care about. I mean, yes, we are grateful for everything you have done for us, but, we want you to be happy as well, Your Highness."

This startled the brooding Princess. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to speak, but no words would come. Instead, she waited for the maid to continue.

"If," the maid said, "Your Highness does not wish to marry the Emperor then, forgive my bluntness, but I…no, all of the servants in the castle…we do not think you should have to marry him. Your Highness has spent her entire life wishing for the happiness of the people of Kimlasca, now it is time for us to wish for your happiness."

Natalia tried to smile, but found it choked back by tears. She barely managed to stammer out a thank you to the girl before emotion overwhelmed her voice entirely. She made a motion as to send the maid away, but Laura had already left, likely having sensed that the Princess needed some time alone.

She allowed a low, rasping sound to escape her. It had been meant as a laugh but came out as a sob.

What kind of princess was she? Even the servants were worrying about her. If it wasn't so undignified she would have slapped herself. Worry about her own happiness? How could she? The people of Kimlasca were so good to her. She could not rightly return their kindess with selfishness. Now, more than ever, she felt that she could not abandon her people and her country.

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The morning came far too quickly for the Princess of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear. She had spent most the evening packing for the trip. She would have missed dinner again had not Laura come to remind her.

Dinner had passed without much conversation on any side—only a brief mention of tomorrow's impending departure passing among them. She had then returned to her room to pick her accessories and jewelry.

At first she had only wanted to take the necklace made from the Maestro stone, but she knew that, as a Princess, she was expected to wear different pieces of lavish jewelry on each of the three nights. She had sworn to herself, however, that she would continue to wear her necklace regardless.

Anticipation of the party turned painfully in her stomach. Truly, she did not wish to go. But the morning was here, and it was time to leave.

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**Author's Note**

sigh I had some problems writing this part. I wish I could have added some fluff, but I promise! The fluff will begin once they reach Chesedonia (in other words, next chapter ) and will continue for a good time afterwards. It's almost done, so it should be up either later today or tomorrow morning. Until then, please read and review. I really appreciate it!


	6. Her Doubt, His Devotion

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your reviews. They mean so much to me. And thank you for all your support. I worked hard on this chapter especially for all my readers.

Oh, and there was a question from b4k4 ch4n--It was actually Natalia who was talking. She was looking at the pendant and thinking that she couldn't be happy. Sorry if that seemed confusing. :)

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Chesedonia loomed over the watery horizon, the turrets of Astor's mansion practically glowing in the midday sun. Natalia sighed. She should have known that she would not have been able to take the public ferry to Chesedonia. It had been a miracle that her father had let her travel practically unaccompanied in the first place; she supposed that travelling on the public ferry was too much to ask.

But still, it was rather silly to travel on this gigantic boat pretty much all by herself. Of course there was the ship's captain as well as a small crew, and, of course, Guy lurked somewhere below deck. She, for one, was not content to remain cooped up in her cabin when she had been, for all intents and purposes, confined to the castle for the past year and a half.

The sun was shining, the sea was calm, and the breeze carried traces of distant seas. Or maybe just this sea, but still—she tossed her head back, enjoying the feel of the wind on her skin—it was the perfect day to be outside. Briefly she considered "disappearing" into the city after disembarking but decided against it. She didn't want to give poor Guy a heart attack. After…tolerating her for so many years, he deserved some measure of consideration.

But just because she couldn't go into the city on her own didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the beauty of the place. For a desert city the place was truly remarkable. Having been lived in Baticul all her life she was very fond of greenery. Still, there was something special about Chesedonia.

She stepped up on the railing and leaned out to get a better view of the city. Her mind strayed back to the eve of the offensive against Eldrant. She had waited then for Asch to return even when she had known that he would not. She couldn't help thinking as she watched the city draw ever nearer that, somehow, even four years later, she was still waiting for him.

She reached for the necklace and ran her fingers over the surface. Asch had not come to her then as he had after she had found out about her true birth yet had decided to return to Baticul. Even at that point she had grown so used to his appearing whenever she needed him, just as he had when he helped her escape from certain death in Baticul. She looked down at the pendant and clutched it in her hand until the metal began to bite into her flesh.

He had always been there for her, supporting her from the shadows, always protecting her in his own way, always leading her to the safest possible path. Some part of her liked to think that he had stood against Van's insanity for her sake, but she knew that was not the truth. Asch had resisted because Van's plan would have meant the deaths of everyone on Auldrant, not just her. Perhaps some part of Asch had cared for her, but he would not have prized her alone above all the other people on Auldrant. That would have been selfish. And if there was one thing Asch was not, it was selfish.

What he had done, he had done for the sake of the planet. Not for her. And although there was very little she could do to ever match what he had sacrificed, she had promised herself that she would do whatever she could to help the world that he had died to protect. To keep that promise she would have to put the welfare of both Kimlasca and Malkuth before her own.

Before she had joined with Luke and the others she had liked to think that she had placed at least Kimlasca before herself. The others had told her that she had done just that, but she had always held out on the hope that, at least when it came to her marriage, she would not have to sacrifice her happiness. When Asch had been alive, even after Luke had been placed into the Fabre household, she had felt safe. Even if Asch might never have returned to her, she had been able to tell herself that, at least, she had a fiancee whom she loved. She had been lucky then. She had not known when he had "proposed" to her as a child that she would grow to love him so, or suffer so greatly at his death. Nor had she been prepared to face the possibility of a husband she didn't love.

She hated to admit it, but she had always counted on Asch's return. But now…now that that was no longer a possibility she was faced with a choice between her happiness and the welfare of two countries. She was not sure it was a choice she could make.

Frowning, she leaned farther over the railing, trying to distract herself with the shifting patterns of light in the water. The water slapped against the side of the boat before falling back on itself sending ripples out into the distance. The sunlight seemed to illuminate even the farthest depths of the ocean lighting it a blue as vivid as a certain count's eyes…

She shut her eyes against the overpowering emotion that the memory evoked, letting the rocking motion of the ship lull away the painful turning in her gut that had nothing to do with sea sickness.

"Your Highness!"

A startled shout broke into her reverie. She did not need to turn to see who it was.

"Your Highness, please come down from there."

Guy hovered somewhere behind her, probably debating whether or not he should help her down. She sighed, and stepped carefully down from the railing. Reluctantly, she leaned against the rail and turned to face her companion.

He shook his head in a disapproving gesture. "That's dangerous you know."

She tried to look fierce. "Do you think me foolish enough to fall off a boat?"

He laughed, seemingly good humored again. "You seemed so anxious to see Chesedonia that, for a moment, I was worried that you would try to swim there instead of waiting for the boat to dock."

"What would you do if I did?"

She regretted teasing him when a look a shock crossed his face. It was the same face he had made at the abandoned factory when she had told him to catch her if she fell.

She expected him to react as he had done before. Instead he looked directly at her and said, "I would jump in after you."

It was a simple enough statement, and she should have been able to convince herself that there was nothing behind it. Maybe she was just tired after the trip, or maybe it was just this certain slant of light that made her unable to look away. He hestitated as well, and for a moment, she dreamt that he was feeling what she was feeling, but quickly dismissed the thought. She looked away, forcibly breaking eye contact.

He shifted his weight, and when she looked up, she saw that he had turned to look towards Chesedonia. Following his gaze, she saw that the ship was now approaching the harbor.

The sounds of the ship's crew shouting orders to their crewmates as well as the people on the dock served to drown out her thoughts. The ship glided into port with more grace than she would have expected from a ship so large—a testament indeed to the pilot's skill—and docked with a shudder that she felt long after the ship was stilled.

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Natalia leaned on the windowpane and watched the bustling crowds below. In the street below merchants, the ever present symbols of Chesedonia were crying their wares, hoping to draw in their last few customers for the evening. She sighed and sank down on her elbows wishing that she could be outside.

Instead, she found herself confined to the room that Astor had prepared for her at the Kimlascan inn upon her arrival and under much stricter guard than she had ever been placed while at the castle. Guy had warned her that he would be standing guard at the door to her room until the following morning just in case she tried to "escape". She had tried to coax him into getting some rest, but he had deftly refused saying that, as her escort, it was his duty to ensure her safety not only from assassins and the like but also from herself.

She had chosen not to acknowledge his comment for the sake of making it seem as though she agreed with what he was doing. Maybe, if he felt she was listening to him he would let his guard down giving her a chance to escape. Seriously, he had to fall asleep sometime and he was more likely to do so if he felt she would not escape.

But no. He was bound to notice. She remembered the nights he had stood watch for the group while they were travelling. He had jumped at any noise he heard, whether it was the wind in the trees or one of Luke's grunting snores. He would catch her if she made even the slightest noise.

Briefly, she considered the window. But after taking a second look, she decided that it was too far to the ground for her to jump safely. And despite how much she wanted to escape the Emperor's party, she didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, especially without her healing artes to patch her back up.

The sun was slowly sinking down over the western horizon casting a warm glow over the buildings. It was beautiful out, but it would be dark soon. Although she had never been one to fear the dark, she worried over what would happen to Kimlasca and the possible alliance with Malkuth if anything were to happen to her.

_The people of Kimlasca would cry if anything were to happen to you._

The words returned, unbidden to her mind. _His_ words.

She turned away from the window and studied the intricate patterns on the carpet to try to distract herself from the emotions the memory evoked. In the dimming light, the swirling patterns hurt her eyes, forcing her to look away. As she looked around, her eyes lighted on her small travelling bag. Besides her trunk, which contained her clothes, the bag was the only thing she had brought. She opened the bag and, reaching in, she pulled out Luke's diary and the scroll containing her narrative.

She lit a small oil lamp sitting on the desk and placed her things beside it. She frowned. Just a few years ago such a lamp would have been uneccessary; a fonstone would have been used instead. It was just another example of how the world she knew was slowly disappearing, like the afternoon sun over the horizon. She wondered how long she would remember.

Turning her attention back to the book and her scroll, she began to write.

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Should he stay or should he go?

Guy silently debated the merits…and the consequences of both choices. Things had been strangely silent in the Princess' room for quite some time. He could enter on the pretext of checking on her, even though he was simply checking to make sure she hadn't simply run off. It wasn't that he believed her capable of abandoning her duty, but it was just that for a Princess on whose shoulders now rested the welfare of not one, but two countries, she could be awfully careless with her life.

She would never know of the icy chill that gripped him whenever she placed herself in danger—of the silent call that always brought him running to her side. She would never know what she put him through.

If he could get away with it, he would find a way to never leave her side. But all too soon the day would come when he would be forced to—forced to place her safety and her life, which he so cherished, in the hands of another man. When—he thought with a painful throbbing in his chest—he would simply have to believe in another's capability to protect her. And if anything were to happen to her even then, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

The only comfort he could find in the situation was that if she married the Emperor, at least he would at least be able to see her. The Emperor was a good man; he would be kind to her. At least, he hoped so. The thought of any other future for her made his heart stop.

It was true that he could not be certain what would happen once she was married, but, for her sake, he tried to think only the best. And if he were never able to see her again—he could not bear the thought.

But she was here now. She was so close, yet so painfully far, separated from him by her duty to her country. This might be—he thought with a start—one of the last times he could be so close to her.

He wanted to see her. He rested his hand on the doorknob, hesitating before opening the door.

Just once. Just this once.

He turned the doorknob and carefully opened the door. The room was dark, without sign of a light. He tried to make out her form in the darkness. The bed was empty, the sheets still smooth as though it had not yet seen its intended occupant. A window on the other side of the room was open, the curtains rustling in the night breeze.

The rest of the room was empty.

He started forward, desperately trying to surpress the numbness that threatened to overwhelm him. She was missing and possibly in danger. This was no time to let his feelings interfere—no time to to let his fear for her safety consume him.

But the fear loomed like a grotesque monster. Possibilities ran through his mind, each more dreadful than the last.

He knew that he should call for help, get some of Astor's men to start a search, but he couldn't help feeling that it would only waste valuable time. He should be out there searching for her now, not standing here debating what to do.

If he didn't hurry, whoever had done this might hurt her…or worse. His gut clenched. She might already be…

He clenched the window sill, tightening his grip until his knuckles turned white and tried to push the thought from his mind. He would find her before any such thing could happen. For him, there would be no alternative.

All he could think to do was go after her himself. Not only had he sworn to protect her, but he was the only one he trusted to do so.

He locked the fear away behind a door of self-control, allowing only the resultant adrenaline to sustain him. He had to think this through. What was the most logical series of events?

Whoever had done this could not have taken her through the door; he had been standing guard there the whole time.This left the window as the only possible exit. Glancing out the window, he saw to his dismay that there was no clue as to where she went or was taken. Only shapeless sand dunes sat below the window, offering no obvious clues as to what had happened.

He tried to gauge the distance to the ground. It seemed to be a couple meter, but he couldn't be certain in the darkness. If someone jumped—or was thrown—they might still make it down safely. Glancing back down at the ground, he was relatively certain that he could make it down safely if he jumped. His mind wandered back to the missing princess, hoping she hadn't been hurt in the fall.

The thought of her worked better than adrenaline to spur him into action. With a swift motion he swung himself over the windowsill and dropped to the ground below, rolling as he hit the ground to lessen the impact. As he pushed himself to his feet, he glanced back up at the window. It had been farther than he had thought; even having rolled, the impact still left him breathless.

He forced himself to draw in air, ignoring his arm which had begun to throb ominously. He flexed it experimentally; it was not broken, but he could tell it would hurt like hell in the morning. He grit his teeth.

The injury may have been minor, but the fact remained that he had been careless. She might have been hurt worse in the fall. He had to find her. Now.

But where to start? The night wind had erased all traces of any presence from the sandy ground. Where would she most likely be taken?

He tried to calm his heart which jumped about anxiously in his chest. If they were going to kill her, the place would be irrelevant. That they—whoever those soon to be disemboweled bastards were—that they took her meant they, most likely, were not going to kill her. Ransom seemed the most likely scenario. But in that case, they would not likely remain in Chesedonia, in easy reach not only of Astor's formidable forces but also the combined forces of Malkuth and Kimlasca.

They might have taken her into the desert, but that was unlikely. At night the temperatures dropped well below freezing. Even desperate bastards like those would not risk having her die of hypothermia before getting their money. As painful as it was, at least it was some consolation.

That left the ports. They could not remain in the city, and it was unlikely they would travel by land. That meant they would try to get her out of the country by ship. But which port? If they headed out through the Malkuth port, they would be within easy reach of the forces at Kaitzur. If they left through the Kimlascan side, however…

But no. That couldn't be right. How in the hell would they manage to get a ship? Unless they already had one waiting….

This all seemed too complicated for simple thugs. But—he realized with a painful twist—he knew nothing about who was behind this. His heart sank. She might not even be at the port. What if they had taken her somewhere within the city? Chesedonia was quite literally a maze, full of back alleys and suspicious hidey-holes. If they had taken her into the city, it would take weeks to find her. And a well-informed group could easily stay ahead of search parties.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think when a memory bubbled up from beneath his mental grasp. He remembered how, on the eve of the offensive against Eldrant she had seemingly disappeared when the group had separated. He had searched the city, half-desperate, only to find her at the Kimlascan port. Although she had gone to that place of her own free will, he couldn't help thinking it significant that he should remember this now.

The port. Maybe that was it. Maybe she was there now. In the back of his mind, another thought emerged. Maybe she was there of her own free will now. He shook his head, dispelling the thought. Until she was safe—no—until he was again by her side, he would not permit himself the luxury of thinking that it was anything so benign. He would not risk that it could be something much worse.

He ran around the corner of the inn to get to the main street, pausing momentarily to regain his sense of direction. When he sighted the right street he rushed towards the port, his footsteps loud in the still night, his heartbeat drowning out the fearful thoughts that would paralyze him.

She would be there. She would be all right.

The words were like a mantra—a prayer even to whatever god or spirit might be listening. They were all he had to protect him against the chills which pierced him—chills which had nothing to do with the temperature.

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**Author's Note**:

So this is the second promised chapter for the day. I couldn't bear to leave this update at that last chapter. It seemed so…I dunno…bland, somehow. I wish I could have fit more fluff in there, but I just couldn't find a way. But from now on, the real fluff and serious romance start. Yay!

Unfortunately, however, I am now caught up to where I have written. So, updates might not come as fequently. Still, I'll do my very best to get them out every couple of days or so. Until then.


	7. Stars of Tears

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Kyaa! Thank you soooooo much everyone! I'll continue working hard for you guys!

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He could not get to the port quickly enough. The faster he ran, the longer the path stretched before him. Once familiar streets turned into a tortuous maze in which he seemed to have become completely entrapped. But he would get there. He had to.

As he turned the next corner his heart, which had been hammering in his chest just moments before stopped completely.

A small familiar figure was crouched on the end of the far pier, thin graceful legs dangling in the water. For a moment, the numbness returned. Was it her, or a figment of his imagination? He desperately hoped it was the former and not the latter.

He approached her cautiously so as not to startle her. As he edged closer, he let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. She whirled around, flinching at the sight of him. She tried to speak but seemed unable to make any sound. Instead, she looked away out over the water. He noticed, with a start, that the pale moonlight highlighted tears tracks on her cheeks.

For a moment, the fear in him resurfaced, but he swiftly surpressed it. He did not want to worry her. Right now, she was the one in pain; she would not let him help her if she felt that he was suffering in any way. That was just how she was, and that was one of the many reasons that he cared so much for her.

Concern drew him closer to her. He could barely keep himself from pulling her closer to comfort her. Instead he asked, "Your Highness, are you all right?" He struggled to keep the worry out of his voice.

For a moment, it seemed as though she would not respond, but then she turned to him and nodded slowly, pausing to wipe fresh tears from her red-rimmed eyes.

Hesitantly, he leaned forward and wiped away a tear with his thumb. He noticed, with concern, that her skin was as smooth and cold as porcelain. Her small frame trembled in the cold evening wind. Good gods! She was half frozen! How long had she been out here?! He regretted not wearing a jacket. Now that the adrenaline had worn off he was beginning to feel the cold as well. But, at least if he had a jacket, he could have done something to keep her warm.

He turned to her, hands hovering a hair's breadth from her shoulders. "Your Highness, we have to get you inside!"

She turned away, forcing his hand to fall away from her face. "I'm all right," she said, hunching over to draw her knees closer to her chest. "I just need to be alone for a while."

Maybe, but she certainly could be alone somewhere much warmer. She might catch cold if she stayed out here any longer.

"Please, Your Highness…." He stopped when he noticed that she had cringed at the use of her title.

"Guy, please call me by my name," she said, her words muffled by her knees and the fabric of her skirt. "Just for now. Please?"

He nearly winced at the strain in her voice. It was so unlike her to be subdued. He knew her as a vibrant woman who feared nothing in the known world—a woman who was as strong as she was beautiful. It hurt unbearably to see her like this.

"What happened?" he asked, the question slipping past his lips. He couldn't ignore the panic that rose in his chest when she didn't answer.

He leaned forward again and, after a moment's hesitation, placed his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened at his touch. He took a deep, calming breath and asked as calmly as he could, "Natalia, please, tell me what happened. Did someone hurt you?"

She looked up at him, and, for a moment, he thought she would not answer. But she bit her bottom lip as though she were trying not to cry and shook her head slowly.

Eventually she let out a trembling "no" and looked back out over the water. He noticed as she turned away that something shiny slipped from her hand. After taking a second glance, he realized she had been clutching the Maestro Stone pendant—the pendant that had been Asch's final gift to her.

A frown briefly crossed his face before his impassive mask slipped back into place. Some one had hurt her, just not in the way he had thought. That bastard was still tormenting her so. Asch was lucky he was already dead.

He wanted to ask her what she had been thinking about, but right now, getting her somewhere warm was his main concern.

"Natalia, please, let's go back to the inn. We can talk there if you want to."

She looked back up at him, a look of concern etched across her features. She wiped the tears from her face and gave him a wan smile. " Oh, of course, you must be cold. I'm sorry to make you come all the way out here, especially in this weather." She bowed her head slightly. "I apologize. It was terribly selfish of me."

Though the fearful thoughts that had overwhelmed him earlier had not completely disappeared, he found he could not blame her for a fear that had been his own. True, she had left her room when he had asked her not to, but, he couldn't find it in himself to blame her for it. She was safe, and in his mind, that was all that mattered.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to appear relaxed. "Well, I can't say I like the weather, but, as far as I see it, there's nothing to apologize for." He chose his words carefully. "And I…you didn't force me to come after you. I did that of my own free will."

She studied him momentarily, having to crane her neck to meet his eyes. Seeing this, he knelt next to her, never removing his hands from her shoulders. She paused and bit down on her bottom lip.

She squeezed her eyes shut, as though she was trying to hold something in, but after a moment she blurted out, "But you're not!"

"Not what?" he asked, startled by the desperation in her voice.

She stifled a cry. He noticed with a painful start that her shoulders had begun to shake with a force too great for mere shivering. A gasp escaped her, and then she went still. His heart stopped for a moment, but then she looked back up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

His grip on her shoulders tensed involuntarily. "What am I not?" he asked, unable to keep his voice steady.

Tears dripped down her face. After a moment she said in a quiet voice, "You're not here because you want to be…"

This time his heart _did_ stop, and he was barely able to overcome the numbness that took hold of his body. His grip went limp, and his hands slipped from her shoulders.

"Why…what made you think that?"

" This…protecting me. It is your duty to your country just as it is my duty to marry the Emperor. You're just the same as Asch! You only care about your duty!"

The accusation was so unexpected that he was uncertain how to respond to it. For a moment, he could not find the words to reassure her.

Instinctively he reached up, gently cupping her face in his hands, trailing his thumb across her smooth skin.

"Duty or not," he said quietly, "I would protect you regardless."

Her eyes widened. Clearly, she was as surprised as he, not only at the gesture but at the emotion that had almost drowned out the words themselves. She jumped a little when he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, lightly bumping their noses together.

He closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to comfort her. The words came intuitively.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "If I could…if fate would allow it…I would never, ever leave you. I would stay with you always…"

The words drifted away, carried out over the sea by the night wind. At first, he wasn't quite sure she had heard him, but he noticed that tears had once again begun to fall.

"Oh, no, no,no…shhhh." He wiped away the tears and made various soothing noises, his heart fluttering maddeningly in his chest at the gentle warmth of her shuddering breath. "It'll be all right."

He held her for a moment until she calmed down. He jumped slightly when she pulled away, taking his hands in her small, cold ones.

"You're trembling," she said after a moment's hesitation.

Looking down at his hands, he noticed that she was right. He pulled his hands from hers and stared at them. He grit his teeth. He hadn't wanted her to see this—this shameful weakness of his. She would think that it was the phobia.

He knew better.

There was just no way he could tell her why he was still afraid to touch her—why every moment he spent close to her was tortuous—why his hands were trembling.

He rubbed his hands together as though he was trying to warm them. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about," he said, faking a laugh, "I'm just cold. That's all."

She frowned at him, but the expression seemed to melt away into a weak smile.

"I'm sorry to do this to you," she said. "I mean, you've had that phobia your whole life, yet here I am, putting you in this position." She tried to laugh but couldn't seem to make a sound. "You're so kind, and I'm taking advantage of that. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize."

She shook her head. "You're wrong. I do. So please, let me."

He looked at her, wishing that she would not blame herself for a weakness that was his own fault—especially when she completely misunderstood the nature of that weakness. But, if it would ease her mind…

He nodded.

She looked up at him, and he found himself breathless. The way the starlight reflected in her eyes was positively beautiful. He was unable to look away.

"Count Gailardia Galan Gardios," she began, her voice having regained some of its usual confidence, " I, Princess Natalia Luzu Kimlasca-Lanvaldear hereby apologize for running off in the middle of the night, forcing you to come after me, forcing you to remain in close physical proximity to me, being generally foolish and inconsiderate, oh, and selfishly forcing you to remain out here in this cold so long that your face has been so badly frostbitten that it is now red."

He blinked a couple times. If his face was red it had little to do with the cold. But he couldn't tell her that.

She titled her head, so she could see his face better. "Was that acceptable?"

"Of course," he said, glad that she seemed to be feeling better. "Now would you like to return to the inn?"

She nodded. "Yes, let us return now."

He pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand to help her up. She smiled and let him pull her to her feet. But after a second, she stumbled and would have fallen back to her knees had he not caught her by the elbows.

She glanced sheepishly at him. "I…I'm sorry," she stammered, "I cannot seem to stand…" Her voice trailed off.

"What happened? Are you hurt?"

"It's just my ankle, I think twisted it when I jumped…"

"You shouldn't put weight on it then."

"No, it's okay. I should be fine," she said. "I'll just rest it when I get back to my room."

She started forward, but he held her fast. She looked up at him, a glint of defiance in her eyes.

" You can let go of me," she said, "I'll be all right."

He frowned. "You'll only make your injury worse."

She raised a delicate eyebrow. "And who says that isn't part of my master plan? If I injure myself, I'd have a valid excuse for not dancing with the Emperor."

His frown deepened. "If you don't want to dance with him, then just say so. Don't hurt yourself for his sake."

The last part slipped out involuntarily, and, for a moment, he wasn't certain which situation he was referring to, this one or the whole ordeal with the Emperor.

" I'm here to help you," he said.

" I don't need help." She tried to pull away, but her bad ankle gave out. She lost her balance, and, since he did not let go of her, she ended up pulling him along with her.

She muffled a squeak as she hit the ground, but seemed otherwise unhurt until he fell forward, accidentally cracking his forehead painfully against hers. The impact sent sparks shooting up before his eyes.

When his vision finally cleared, he looked down at her, only to find his face mere millimeters from hers. Their eyes widened in sync, and she flushed a curious shade of red. He pushed himself off of her, falling back awkardly on his haunches.

She sat up, her face still flushed and placed her hands demurely in her lap.

It took a moment for his mind to be able to form a coherent thought, and even then, the only thing he could manage to say was "I am SO sorry!"

Her expression was unreadable.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "It was terribly improper of me."

She stared.

He couldn't help fiddling with his collar. Why was she staring like that? Maybe she was offended? But he hadn't meant to fall on her. She wouldn't hold it against him, would she?

He couldn't keep from feeling hurt at the thought that his presence might be so wholly unwanted.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concern tinging her voice. "You hit your head pretty hard. I should know." She laughed quietly and brought her hand to her forehead.

" I'm fine. Are you?"

She nodded.

A silence stretched between them. She shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around herself to ward off the chill.

"We should return to the inn," he said at last. "We've only got a couple of hours before we have to leave for Grand Chokmah."

Her face fell. He wished there was something he could say, but it was simply a fact. There was no rationalizing that—no way around it. Just as there was no way around the fact that she would, in all likelihood, marry the Emperor.

And it was his duty to take her there. The irony was unbearable.

"Let's go back to the inn," he said, surprised at the emptiness in his voice.

She nodded slowly and tried to stand, only to find that he had once again placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Oh no you don't," he said. Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms, pulling her close to him.

Her eyes widened. She opened and closed her mouth several times, obviously having difficulty speaking until she finally managed to stammer out, "P-p-put me down immediately!"

"I will," he said, good-humored again, "when we get back to the inn."

She flailed about, trying to get him to put her down, and he struggled to keep hold of her.

"S-stop squirming! Or I'll end up dropping you!"

"That'll be fine, so long as you PUT ME DOWN!" Her voice rose several decibels with each word.

"I told you—"

"NOW!!"

"No."

Wrinkles formed briefly on her brow, but disappeared when a devilish expression appeared on her face. Then, to his surprise, she leaned closer to him and, lacing her arms around his neck, placed a light kiss on the side of his neck.

He _did_ drop her at that, but he managed to catch her before she hit the ground. For a moment, however, he wasn't certain that his legs would be able to support him. They were feeling an awful lot like a stack of apple gels.

A mischevious smile graced her lips. "And will you put me down now? Or…do I need to try something more drastic?"

More drastic? He wasn't certain if he could handle that. His heart was already doing nervous somersaults in his ribcage. Still, he couldn't help wondering just what she would do.

He brushed away the thought. It was wholly improper, if not unwarranted. It was only a few hours till sunrise now, and they both needed to get some sleep, adding a quick "separately" to the end of the thought and flushing all the way to his hairline. He was certain that even the tips of his ears were crimson.

She was looking at him strangely, but he dared not look at her any longer. Only Lorelei knew what would happen when his self-control was whittled away completely. He hated to admit it but, deep down, he wanted it—wanted her…

But that was asking far too much. In a few days, she would be forever beyond his reach, but, that was in a few days. Right now, he was free to remain by her side, and he knew without a doubt that he would not leave her.

She had stopped flailing now and had settled comfortably against his chest. He did not dare believe that she was actually comfortable—or, that she _liked_ being held by him. He forced himself to believe that she was simply asleep.

She was asleep in his arms. He liked the sound of that…

But it would not be.

Get back to the inn. He had to get her back. She was waiting, and he was wanting—wanting to be closer to her than he had any right to be.

Despite himself, he cast a glance back down at her, finding that she had indeed fallen asleep. He pulled her closer, savoring the closeness.

As he turned to head back towards the inn, he cast a glance out over the moonlit sea. He had stopped wishing on the day that Hod had been destroyed. Wishing was a foolish, idle notion. It did nothing. It could change nothing. At least, that was what he had told himself for years since, as a child, his wish for his family back had not come true. But now, for the first time in so, so many years, he found himself making a wish on the many stars that sparkled in the sky.

_Please, please, let me stay by her side._

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**Author's Note:**

Lol, I worked nonstop on this one, but it was pretty fun to write so it still went by quickly. Oooh the fluff! I was so happy with the way this part turned out. Originally, it was supposed to be longer, but I liked this ending better for this particular chapter. Next chapter will cover the departure from Chesedonia to the arrival in Grand Chokmah, and should be out by next Tuesday or so. Till then!


	8. Temptation

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. You're all so kind!

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It did not take long to get back to the inn. He stopped in front of the door and turned his attention towards her. She had woken up along the way and had taken to occasionally trailing a finger along his jawline and shifting her weight in his arms. The squirming was positively maddening. As if it wasn't tempting enough that he was carrying her bridal style through a darkened town, towards an inn, no less, it seemed as though she had taken it upon herself to remind him just how close she was.

He was terribly tempted just to pull her closer and kiss her.

What would her lips feel like? They looked so soft and perfect, even in the dim moonlight, and they were probably very cold right now. A kiss would warm them up perfectly.

He looked down at her, and, for a moment, their eyes met. Something passed between them. What it was, he could not tell, but it sent an electric shiver down his spine. He stopped walking when she, again, laced her arms around his neck. She pulled herself closer, nuzzling against the side of his neck where she had kissed him earlier. She mumbled something, but he could not comprehend it. At the moment, his mind was too full of plans—what he would do both now and when they got back to the inn.

No.

It was wrong to pursue that train of thought. He wanted more. He wanted to kiss her, to love her, to stay by her side all the days of his life. He _knew_ he wanted it. But, he did not know what she wanted. In this situation, he could not trust her actions. She was obviously distressed over the Emperor's proposal as well as other things. Not only that, but she was tired and very cold right now. She was not in the best shape to be making such decisions.

She had made it clear to him that she would follow through with her duty, regardless of her personal feelings. Even—even if she did want something more, it would not be fair to her if he did something when she was questioning the duty that she had sworn to follow. Even if it made her happy now, it would only cause her terrible pain in the future. And he would not do anything to hurt her.

He shifted her position to make her move her face away from his neck. She seemed startled at his response but did not attempt to return to her previous position. Instead she simply looked away toward the ground.

"We're here," he said after a moment.

She did not respond.

His heart fell. "Now you can finally get some rest," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "Let's just get you inside. But, it looks like I'll have to put you down now. Do you think you can stand."

"Of course I can. I could all along," she said.

He could not help feeling guilty at the bitterness in her voice, especially since he was partly at fault. He had sworn not to let his feelings show, but he had not been able to keep his word. And now, she was suffering for it.

He set her down gently, extending his arm to support her. She stumbled at first but chose to lean against the nearby wall instead of taking hold of his arm. The rejection stung him terribly, but the remorseful look in her eyes told him she had not meant to hurt him. Her reaction had simply been reflexive. He had, after all, hurt her first.

The door swung open silently, and, thankfully, the receptionist was asleep at the desk. So long as they didn't make any noise, they wouldn't be noticed.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "Come on." He held out a hand to guide her but was not surprised when she did not take it. Instead, she hobbled forward, letting out a low hiss of pain whenever she put weight on the injured limb. She was all right until she came to the base of the stairs. Using the railing for support, she tried to haul herself up the stairs.

Enough was enough. She should not torture herself like this just because of his foolishness. He walked over to where she was clinging to the railing and, with a single, swift motion flung her over his shoulder, ignoring her muffled squeak of protest.

"Put me down!"

"I thought we'd already had this discussion. You shouldn't be putting weight on that leg—"

"That's not it!" she hissed. "It's my skirt…"

Reflexively he glanced over. Her usually modest skirt had conspired to fold and ride up to the point that the tops of her stockings had begun to show.

He muffled a scream only by snapping his jaw shut so hard that he swore he felt his brain shift in his skull. His other reflex, besides the scream, was to effectively toss her away. Luckily for them both, they were only a few steps away from the landing, and she managed to fall there, though she landed rather hard on her rear.

It took a moment for his brain to start working again, but when it did, all coherent thought flew out the window. Oh gods! He had thrown her! He rushed to where she sat adjusting her skirt and began apologizing profusely.

She fixed him with a menacing glare. "You threw me," she said in a dangerous tone.

He could not think of a response. The only thing currently running through his mind was that in the span of less than a week he had managed to make a complete fool of himself in her presence.

His wandering gaze lighted on the hem of her skirt which she was currently tugging at. Blasted skirt! Confounded thing! Why was it so short anyway? She was a princess. She should be wearing longer skirts. It wasn't that she didn't look good in this skirt, but…

His mind strayed down a dangerous path that became even more dangerous when she noticed where he was looking. His eyes snapped immediately to hers, and he noticed—with no small amount of trepidation—that she was positively livid.

Her hand shot out faster than a coiled viper, and she smacked him hard across the face.

"Pervert! Miscreant! Get away from me!" she screeched.

"Look, I'm sorry—!"

She smacked him again. "It's just like that time at the spa!!"

"That was an accident! I told you! Luke and Jade—!"

She glowered at him. "And what, are you going to blame them again?"

"No, I—! Look," he said, having regained some of his composure, "I was just trying to help you!"

"Help yourself, you mean," she retorted.

His face flushed a shade of crimson heretofore unknown to mankind. "No, that's not—"

"And just what was it then?"

"I just…if you would've just let me help you up the stairs this wouldn't have happened!"

She glared. "So you're blaming your own depravity on me? That's terrible."

"No! I'm not! I—"

A sound from upstairs interrupted him.

"Hey buddy!" came a man's irate voice, "people are trying to sleep up here so take your lover's quarrel somewhere else!" He punctuated his words with the slamming of a door.

Guy buried his face in his hands. Why did this sort of thing always happen to him?

When he finally dared a glance toward the princess, he found that a blush had blossomed on her face. She looked down towards the ground, up at him and back again.

"L—lovers?!" she sputtered. "Us?! Impossible! Why I never...!"

Her voice trailed off when she looked back up at him. He did not know what she saw on his face. He couldn't tell. He felt, for lack of a better word—detached. Was she really that opposed to the idea of their being lovers?

But what about earlier? She had seemed so comfortable then. Maybe—he thought with a painful start—she was only toying with him. Maybe there were no feelings on her part. Maybe she only saw him as a diversion before she married the Emperor.

Deep down, he knew that she would not be that cruel, not to anyone, but, the idea made sense. Maybe she was scared, maybe she was bored. So many "maybe"s, but to him, they all made sense. After all, why else would she choose him?

He heard her make a sound, as though she had started to say something, but when he looked back at her, she looked away and fell silent.

"Is something wrong, Your Highness?" he asked after a long moment.

She hesitated. "I—I'm so—I'm tired," she said to the ground.

Oh. Of course.

He stood and extended a hand to her. "I'll walk you back to your room then, Your Highness."

She placed her small hand in his, but it was cold. There was no spark, no electricity as he had felt before at even the slightest touch. She would not even look at him now. He felt further away than ever before.

He helped her up the stairs and guided her to the end of the hall where they stopped in front of the door to her room. She took her hand from his and pushed the door open. She stepped inside and began to close the door, but stopped halfway.

"Is something wrong, Your Highness?"

She did not answer.

"If all is well, Your Highness, I suggest you get some rest. It is almost morning."

A pained look crossed her face. "Yes," she said at last. "I suppose I should."

They lingered for a moment, until he turned away. To his surprise, she took hold of his arm to keep him from leaving.

She drew a deep breath then said, "I—I apologize for my conduct earlier."

He placed a hand on hers, surprised when she trembled at the touch. "I already told you that there was nothing to apologize for. As long as you are safe, that's all that matters."

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but the gesture seemed fake to him. He was certain it appeared fake to her as well. Her face fell and, for a moment, he wondered if he had somehow offended her.

She nodded and moved to pull her hand back, but before his brain could register what his body was doing, he reached forward and took hold of her hand, clasping it in his.

"It's all right," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. "It's all right."

He did not know what he was assuring her of or even why, but the words seemed…right somehow. Tears spilled from her eyes, trailing down her face, and she seemed to stifle a sob.

His hand tightened instinctively around hers in a comforting gesture.

"Thank you," she breathed, "thank you."

For just a moment, her grip on his hand tightened before she pulled away.

"Good night, Your Highness," he said.

She gave him a teary smile and nodded. "Good night, Guy." She hesitated for a moment before shutting the door.

He stood for a moment, staring at the door, trying to distract himself by studying the wood grain.

What had she been apologizing for? Running off? Why had she run off in the first place? Did it have something to do with Asch? With the Emperor? With him?

He wanted to ask her, but now was not the time. Whatever it was had obviously upset her. And whatever it was had made her feel responsible for his own weaknesses. She had apologized for something that could in no way be her fault. Or was she apologizing for something completely different?

The answer was there, but he could not see it. His mind swirled. He slumped down against a nearby wall and slid to the floor. His room was only a few doors away, but there was little point in going there; he would not sleep tonight. If he did, he would only dream of her—of the feeling of her in his arms, of her perfect lips, and of her small, soft hand in his.

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**Author's Note:**

Kyaa! This was such a busy weekend, and I didn't have internet access either. –sigh- Anyways, this part was supposed to cover up to Grand Chokmah, but it got kinda long so I cut it and moved the arrival at Grand Chokmah to next chapter, so, um, sorry about that. But the next chapter should be up by the end of the week. Oh, and I know I'm not portraying Natalia in the best light, but I promise, you'll get her side of the story soon. Until then!


	9. Desire

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Oh! Hugs to all the reviewers! Thank you so much!

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Morning was awkward to say the least. Natalia had been unable to sleep whatsoever and, as a result, spent most of the following morning in a trance-like state somewhere between sleep and awareness. Guy had knocked on her door at some ungodly hour in the morning to inform her that they would miss their boat if they did not hurry. The noise had startled her so badly that she, disoriented and sleep deprived, had walked out the door to confront him in little more than her nightgown.

When they realized what she had done he had blushed all the way to his hairline and she had screamed, run back in her room and shut the door behind her. After a few minutes she re-emerged, fully dressed, her ankle bandaged, and her small travel bag packed. He had retrieved her travel trunk, and they had headed for the harbor without so much as a word or a glance passing between them.

Luckily, they were traveling on yet another private vessel so even though they arrived at the dock about ten minutes after the scheduled departure time, they did not miss their ship.

It was only when she was settled safely in her private cabin that she was able to relax and reflect on the previous night's events. She flopped back on the mattress and covered her face in her hands.

How could she have been so foolish?!

Not only had she caused him to worry by running off, she had injured herself carelessly, forcing him to carry her through the town when she knew he had his phobia. Not only that, but she had shamelessly flirted with him when she knew that, no matter what she felt for him—that no matter how true and real it was—she would end up marrying the Emperor.

And then, after all of that, she had practically insulted him to his face! She rolled onto her side and pulled her knees up to her chest. She had been embarrassed when they had off-handedly been called "lovers". She couldn't tell him that it was something she actually wished would happen.

The only thing she could think to do was deny the idea completely. She hadn't counted on the hurt she had seen in his eyes—the look of absolute betrayal, and, for a moment, she thought that maybe, just maybe, he had wanted the same thing as she had.

The pain in his eyes had shone more clearly than tears and had taken her breath away completely. She had not been able to say a word. She had tried to apologize, but, somehow, could not bring herself to say the words. Something had stifled them—something that sounded suspiciously like pride.

Despite her cruel treatment, he had still helped her back to her room. He had called her by her title, not by her name. The action had hurt her. He was re-establishing the distance between them, but really she could not blame him for it. He was protecting himself from her careless cruelty. There was no weakness in that.

Still, he had extended his hand to her; to tell the truth, she had been scared to take it. His hands had been so warm when he had touched her face at the port. When he had held her, she could not help but feel comfortable in his arms. She had felt safe with him, and she could only assume that, to some degree, he had trusted her as well. But she had shattered whatever they had in a single moment of carelessness.

When she had placed her hand in his she noticed with some regret that he did not take hold of her hand as she had hoped but, instead, had let it lie limply in his. She had tried to apologize again when she had reached her room, but he clearly misunderstood her reason for apologizing. But he seemed to realize that he had misunderstood and had, ever so kindly, comforted her, without even asking her for anything in return.

He was too kind, too good. Truly, she deserved to be vilified for her behavior, but he had not offered so much as a single harsh word. She did not deserve his kindness, and she knew it.

This morning even, he had taken the blame for her own carelessness. She had wanted to apologize again, but he wouldn't hear of such a thing. He blamed himself for her own weaknesses.

Tears squeezed out from the corners of her eyes against her will. She shouldn't be crying. She had to be stronger than this, or he would just end up worrying about her. She had already caused him enough grief; she did not want to cause him any more.

A loud knocking on the door broke her train of thought. She wiped her eyes and adjusted her clothes as she sat up. "Come in," she called.

The door opened, and someone peeked around the corner. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Guy!"

She could not conceal her surprise. He stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. She noticed—with no small measure of regret—that he avoided looking directly at her.

"Your Highness, are you well?" he asked, his eyes glued to the floor. Concern was written plainly across his features.

Her heart thudded nervously in her chest. Had something happened? Something must have, or else, judging from the tortured expression on his face, he would not be here.

"Of course," she said as she stood to greet him. "I am…"

Her voice suddenly seemed to drift off into silence. For a moment, she wasn't even certain why until it hit her that she had stopped talking and her jaw hung slack. She noticed, for the first time since they had set sail that the ship was swaying uncomfortably beneath her feet. Maybe that also had something to do with why everything looked so blurry and why the ground suddenly seemed closer than it had before…

The next thing she knew something locked tightly around her waist and the ground, which a moment ago had been rushing up to meet her, had stalled a short distance from her face.

"I thought so," she heard him say from somewhere above her head.

She tried to turn to follow the voice, but her head swam with the effort.

A gentle hand helped her back onto her feet, and it was only then that she realized that she had almost fallen flat on her face.

"What happened?" she asked, noticing that the ship had once again begun to sway disconcertingly beneath her feet. As she tried to steady herself, she lost her footing and stumbled forward. His arm tightened around her waist, and he took half a step forward so that her head came to rest against his chest.

It happened so quickly that one moment seemed to blend into the next. Something wonderfully electric passed through her at the sudden contact. All thoughts of recent events fled her mind, and for a moment, everything felt right. It was as though the events at the inn had not happened—as though they were still at the docks, staring out at the silent, moonlit sea, their faces—their lips, so tantalizingly close.

The attraction was there—stronger than magnetism and far purer than lust or desire. Yes, she wanted him, but not just him—not just the body which held her in its arms. She didn't just want someone beside her, to tell her simply that he loved her. Anyone could serve for that, but this, _this_…felt right somehow. She had been kissed by others before—both willingly and unwillingly—but this was different from anything she had ever felt. This wasn't just electric or just passionate; it was somehow both at the same time—a tangible emotion that elicited a very physical response. This—_he_, she realized with a start, was what she wanted. No. Not "wanted". The way her heart fluttered in her chest told her that this was more than just want. There was something else there, something vital that she had not felt in years, but some part of her—a part that bore a suspicious resemblance to Duty—refused to put a name to it. What is was she would not—no, _could not_ say; all she could do was show it, in the only way she knew how.

She moved easily, willingly into his embrace, letting her body relax at his touch. As she buried her head into his chest, he flinched but, after a moment, seemed to melt perfectly into her arms. She could hear his heartbeat and could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The arm that encircled her waist tightened one more time, closing the small gap between them. He cradled her head with his other hand, trailing his fingers through her hair. He buried his face in her hair, and, for a moment, his whole body tensed. Then, he let out a heavy sigh, and placed a trembling kiss on the crown of her head.

The act, as simple as it was, sent pleasant tremors throughout her body, leaving her trembling. The electricity coursed through her veins, leaving a pleasant tingling in its wake and ending in firecrackers in her fingertips.

The hand that had rested on her head slid down to rest at her waist. Cautiously, she brought up her hand and rested it on his shoulder. Truly, she thought that he would pull away at the touch, but he leaned closer, so that his face rested in the curve between her neck and shoulder.

She brought her other hand up to twine her fingers through his short golden locks, letting out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh when he placed a soft kiss on the base of her neck.

This was right. This was how it should be. This was how she wanted it to be, and, more importantly, this was how _he_ wanted it to be. After everything she had done, she wanted to do something to make him happy, and, if this was what he wanted, she would gladly give it.

He tightened his embrace, nuzzling against her neck. She was surprised not only by the action but by the desperate tenderness with which he trailed his lips up along her jawline. She tilted her head back, letting out a delighted groan as he lightly kissed the sensitive skin of her throat before placing a slow, deliberate kiss on the tip of her chin.

As he moved, his lips shadowing the curves of her face, she turned, placing a fluttering kiss on his cheek. He flinched and, for a terrifying moment, she thought he would pull away completely. Instead he stood up straight to he could look down into her eyes.

Fear wavered in the depths of his azure eyes. Fear of what, she did not know. Or rather, she did know but did not want to acknowledge it. Her. He was afraid of her.

Her heart stilled in her chest. He was afraid of her. The words knifed her heart. What on earth was she doing to him?! She was torturing him! But…he had seemed to want this. At least, that was what she had thought. And maybe he had wanted it at first, but now…regret shone in his eyes.

Had she hurt him by not refusing?

She searched his eyes, trying to find an answer; he seemed to be studying her just as carefully. Silently, she willed him to find the answers he sought. After a moment, something shifted in the depths of his eyes. She did not know what answer he had found. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and waited.

She felt him move, and, for a second,she thought he had pulled away. But, his arms still remained locked tightly around her waist. He took a long, deep breath, and in the stillness of the room, she could have sworn that she heard his heart pounding anxiously in his chest.

He moved closer. She could tell without even opening her eyes. His breath tickled her skin, and their noses brushed, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. Her lips parted expectantly, and her heart fluttered nervously in her chest.

For a moment there was nothing but expectation. Then there was only gentleness, love, and the soft pressure of his lips on hers.

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He pulled away only when he had to, his head swirling wildly. Whether it was from lack of oxygen or the sheer pleasure of feeling her lips on his, he could not tell. They pulled apart reluctantly.

She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with emotion. A smile graced her lips as she rolled forward onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. It was hard to describe the feeling that suffused every fiber of his being, but it was marvelous, like lightning in his veins. His hands began to roam, tracing her curves, relishing the way she fit so perfectly against him. She arched her back, pressing closer and closer to him until he thought he would go mad with delight.

She slipped her hands beneath the loose collar of his shirt, trailing her fingers tantilizingly along his bare skin. Instinct had long since supplanted concious thought, but, as his fingers fumbled with the buttons on the back of her dress, something even stronger than instinct pulled his hands from her body and his lips from hers. He took a step back, covering his face with his hand to hide the fiery blush that had spread across his face.

Oh gods, what had he done?

He looked back at her, his heart clenching painfully when he saw that her eyes were filled with confusion, hurt, and the beginnings of tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but, in the end, only a long silence stretched between them. Her eyes dropped to the floor, her shoulders shivering with stifled sobs.

He wanted to reach out to her, comfort her as he felt he should, but the memory of her lips coursed through his veins like liquid passion. And he knew that, if he were to hold her now, he would never, ever let her go.

He spoke, his voice cracking with each word. "Princess, I…"

Her head shot up, and she locked her vibrant eyes with his, unspoken hurt and betrayal written on her features. Oh, Lorelei, no. She hadn't…hadn't wanted this. Either that, or she must be regretting her actions.

His reaction to the feeling of her in his arms had been impulsive, spurred on by a series of dreams he had last night that he now blushed to remember in the morning. He drew his arms tight about him as though his body might simply disintegrate if it did not have the support. He turned away, unable to face her.

How could he have done this?! All his vows, all his oaths, broken in a single, careless moment. He had allowed instinct to arrest concious thought, and the result had been disastrous. Again, again, she was suffering for his weakness.

He wanted to look at her, to tell her that the fault was his alone, but he could not bear to see the anger, the disgust, that he knew would be there. She was hurting and should not be left alone, but he could not find it in himself to stay. He would only be drawn to her again, and that would only hurt her more.

Despite the numbness which had settled heavily in his limbs, he managed to turn and start for the door. The deck lurched sickeningly beneath his feet. The storm outside was getting worse. He had come to check on her, to make sure she wasn't sea sick, when this whole disaster began.

He heard her stifle a sound, and, for a moment, thought that she had fallen or that she was sick. But when he felt her hand clasp tightly around his wrist, his blood ran cold. She was angry, likely furious, and rightly so. He had broken the trust she had placed in him by taking advantage of her in a most vulnerable moment. Undoubtedly, she would send him away, possibly for good. He was not certain he could bear that.

But, of everything he expected her to say, nothing prepared him for the next words out of her mouth.

Her voice was low, quieter than a heartbeat. "Please," she said, "Please stay with me."

The blunt pounding of his heart seemed to drown out her words momentarily.

No, she could not have just said what he thought she just said.

He turned slowly to look back at her. Her eyes were wide, her expression, pleading. When he had turned back, her grip on his wrist had slackened, and her hand had slipped down his arm, coming to a rest in his hand. He pulled away, afraid what the maddening sensation of her skin on his might lead him to do.

He drew in a deep breath, trying to redraw the boundaries that he had so carelessly erased.

"Are you unwell, Princess?"

The look on her face stung him terribly; she looked as though he had slapped her. She took a stumbling step backwards, clutching a trembling hand to her chest. She looked away towards the ground, taking a second to formulate a response. "N-no," she said at last, "I am well."

She squeezed her eyes shut as though trying not to cry. He turned away again, unable to bear the sight, starting towards the door. He knew she reached for him again, but this time, he was quicker and pulled his hand out of reach. He opened the door, stepping though and shutting it quickly, trying desperately to block out the gut-wrenching, heartbroken cry that tore from her chest after he had left the room.

He sank down against the door, and, though he covered his ears with his hands, he could still hear the sound. It ripped through his body, tearing cruelly through flesh and bone, blood and brain, heart, emotions, wants, desires, barriers, all the way down to his core where it throbbed excruciatingly. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them, rocking slightly in time to the boat as he sang to himself a song that his sister used to sing to him—a song he had not sang since his sister died, trying to drown out her sobs with his own sorrow.

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Two days at sea did little to alleviate the tensions between them. He had not seen her since the incident in her cabin; she had locked herself in, refusing even to take meals. Still, he went down to the galley to bring up trays for her. He would knock on the door, asking her to eat, pleading on the second morning when she had not eaten something in over 12 hours. The first couple trays he had brought remained untouched, to his dismay. Each time, the food got cold, he would return to the galley to bring another tray of hot food for her.

It was only at lunch on the second day that he returned to find the tray empty, placed quietly outside the door with a "Thank You" note tucked inside the empty salad bowl.

For the first time in two days, he smiled. As he returned the empty tray to the galley, he slowly became aware of the exhaustion that suffused his body. Dimly, he realized that he had not slept a full night's sleep since he had left Baticul. He had caught catnaps when he could on the first ferry and had not gotten more than an hour or two of sleep in Chesedonia. And, he didn't sleep at all on the first night spent on the ferry to Grand Chokmah; he couldn't get the sound of her pained cry out of his head. Not only that, but he had stood guard outside her door the entire night, just in case she did something drastic.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her; he just didn't want to take any chances. He had sworn that, when it came to her safety, he would not take any chances. He refused to admit to himself that he simply did not want to leave her side. Grand Chokmah was only a few hours away now. Once they arrived, she would be forever out of his reach.

It was a thought he could not bear.

He returned to his cabin, sinking down on the bed, letting the exhaustion overwhelm him. His mind dropped quickly into the endless void of sleep. He did not dream, and, for that, he was grateful. He could not bear to dream of her again; it would be too much for him. His sleep was nothing but darkness and nothingness, and his mind did not return to him until the boat's horn blared with a note of terrible finality, that they had arrived at Grand Chokmah.

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**Author's Note:**

Kyaa! This part turned out really long despite how much trouble I had writing it. I had thought about cutting it several times, but I had already put off the arrival at Grand Chokmah for a couple chapters now, so, I just kept on going. Sorry I haven't explained why Natalia ran off at Chesedonia yet, but that's for later in the story. I hope I portrayed her a bit better in this part and that I didn't take her too far out-of-character. The same goes for Guy. It was sooo difficult to write the first two sections of this chapter. I was so worried about making the relationship progress to fast. Kyaa…now that I think of it, this part was _really_ hard to write.

But, enough of that, the next part should cover the first day in Grand Chokmah. It should get easier for me to write then…I hope….


	10. Arrival

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the kind reviews! They make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

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The arrival at Grand Chokmah was not at all what she had expected. She had hoped to slip in unnoticed and, if possible, slip out just as silently and head to some place peaceful. She had heard that Engeve was quite nice this time of year. And, if necessary, she could even hike back to Baticul via the Rotelro Bridge. It was a long, arduous trip through miles of monster-infested territory and the inhospitable Zao Desert without the use Fonic Artes; it would be difficult, to say the least, but anywhere was preferable to Grand Chokmah right now. Anywhere.

As she stepped onto the dock she noticed, to her utter dismay that several rows of men clad in the distinctive uniforms of the Malkuth military awaited her and, to her even greater dismay, a man clad in a distinctive teal uniform waited rather patiently alongside them, the sun reflecting off his glasses and his caramel hair as annoyingly perfect as ever, despite the light summer breeze.

"Colonel Curtiss," she said icily.

He tilted his head and smiled his trademark smile. "Oh my, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

She eyed him warily. "Since when are we 'friends', Colonel?"

He shrugged. "Since, oh, about twenty minutes ago when His Majesty ordered me to go down to the harbor to greet my—'friends'." He seemed to balk at the words. "But," he continued, "if you wish me to tell His Majesty that no friend of mine arrived in Grand Chokmah today."

"Be my guest," she huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

He considered her for a moment before turning serious. "Unfortunately, I cannot. I am under orders from His Majesty to escort you to the castle."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

"Oh, Gailardia," he said, the smile reappearing on his face, "what on earth have you done to the Princess? She seems to be in a most foul mood."

She turned, surprised since she had not heard him walk up beside her in time to see him flinch and nearly drop her traveling trunk on his foot. He looked up and, for the briefest moment, their eyes met. They turned away quickly, their faces burning.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natalia noticed that Jade was watching them, a bemused smirk playing across his face.

Beside her, Guy set the trunk down and adjusted his collar. She noticed that it was something he did when nervous. "_I_ didn't do anything!" he protested.

Natalia fixed him with a stare. He flinched. Jade smirked.

"Well then," Jade said, adjusting his glasses, "let us head for the palace." He paused. "If, of course, that is all right with you, Princess."

She frowned at him. "Of course it is. Let us go."

"I guess I'll just carry the luggage," Guy said quietly.

She turned, surprised by the note of abandonment in his voice. "Guy…"

He smiled but it did not reach his eyes. "Go on ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

Sadness clawed at her heart. Even though she still felt awkward around him, she absolutely did not wish to be separated from him. She had known that he had brought her food several times during the trip, removing the trays every half hour or so when the food got cold. She had also known that he had spent a substantial amount of time sitting outside her door. She also knew he had heard her cry.

She had not meant him to hear; she had tried to hold it in. But despite her best efforts, the sound had still escaped her. It was a sound of despair and utter loneliness that she had thought herself incapable of making since Asch's death.

She had not wanted Guy to leave, but she could find to reason to stop him. As she saw it, the choice was ultimately his. She had no right to ask anything of him at all, yet, she had asked him to stay. In her memory, this was the one request he had ever refused to grant her, yet, in retrospect, the request had been unreasonable. He had every right to refuse.

"Are you coming, Your Highness?" Jade called from further along the dock.

It took her a moment to respond. "I—in a second, Colonel."

He sighed. "Oh very well," he said, turning away to address his underlings.

"Princess…"

She turned back to find Guy frowning at her. "Yes?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

He shook his head slowly. "You don't have to wait for me. I _can_ find my way to the castle."

It was her turn to frown. "So can I, but that's not the point."

"What is the point then?"

She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "The point is," she said at last, "that I don't want you carrying the luggage."

The instant she said it, she knew that it had come out wrong, that he would only misunderstand her intent.

Wrinkles creased his brow. "You don't…trust me?" he asked, voice wavering slightly.

"N-no! Of course not! It's just—," she fumbled for a word, "you're not a servant! You shouldn't have to do such—menial tasks as this!"

Unbidden, memories from the years before their journey returned to her. She had called him her servant then, had expected him to do such "menial" tasks. She had been thoughtless and cruel simply because she could, and he had never once blamed her for it, called her for what she was.

As he turned towards her, his eyes locking with hers, she wanted to turn away in shame. She saw in his eyes that he too was remembering the past. Exactly what he was remembering, however, she did not know. She could only hope that he was not thinking of the same thing she had been thinking about. She studied his brilliant, blue eyes trying to read their depths for some clue as to his thoughts when, suddenly, he smiled at her.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm not doing this as a servant."

He paused momentarily, the unasked question hanging in the air between them.

Why?

He tilted his head closer, turning towards her, presumably so that Jade, who was watching them, could not read his lips and said in a soft voice, "I'm doing this for you."

She took a step back, startled. "What?"

A frown crossed his face momentarily but soon disappeared. "Do you remember what I told you at the Tower of Rem?"

"That, if I needed something, all I had to do was ask you?"

He nodded, then smiled again. "Just give the order."

"But, when I—"

The frown returned, and he looked away. He took a step backwards. "I'm…sorry, but, that was one order I could not follow."

Again, the unasked question overwhelmed the silence that stretched between them.

He turned back to her. She drew a sharp breath when she saw the sadness that swam in the depths of his eyes, and suddenly, it all made sense. Why he was awkward around her, why he had been hurt when she had refused to consider him as a possible lover, why he pulled away every time she reached out to him—it was all so clear now, so terribly clear.

Oh Lorelei, what had she done?

She took another step away, suddenly uncomfortable with his proximity. How could she not have known? Looking back, it should have been so obvious, especially after what had happened in her cabin.

He had wanted that. He had wanted more. But she had never thought that giving him what he wanted would hurt him more than refusing. She clenched her teeth involuntarily. Again, she had failed to think things through only to end up hurting him. He knew, just as well as she did that, in a few days, they would be separated for good. In all likelihood, he had pulled away for that reason. And, she had selfishly asked him to stay without even considering what his motivation for leaving might be.

She took another step back, giving him the room that he most likely wanted. She wanted to apologize, to say that she understood now why he had pulled back, but decided against it. At this point, he probably did not want to be reminded of such things. Not only that, but she couldn't even be certain of her reasoning.

How could she know if she was right? How could she know that he truly felt something for her and that he was not simply regretting what he had done for some different reason?

But nothing else she could think of made sense. It had to be that he felt something for her. It had to be. Or, was that simply wishful thinking on her part? Maybe, maybe not. She was not certain, and there was no way she could ask him.

At least she knew now what he wanted. It would be best for him if she distanced herself, but, some part of her could not bear the thought. It was cruel and selfish, but she did not want to be separated from him. Even if—even if this would all come to nought, she still wanted to spend time with him while she could.

But still, at this moment, it was probably best to give him some space. She did not wish to force the issue.

She turned back to him, studying him for a moment before saying, "If you promise to catch up…"

He smiled. "Of course."

"Just promise me one thing," she said, as she turned away.

He seemed wary, but nodded. "Just name it."

"Promise me that we can…spend just a little time together this afternoon."

He paled momentarily. "P-pardon?"

" I just…." She looked down towards her feet. "I thought that maybe you could—you know—show me around the city or something." She couldn't keep a blush from spreading over her face. "I mean, once the dance begins, there won't be much time for sightseeing, and it would be a shame to leave without seeing the city."

She wanted to kick herself. Was that really the best she could come up with? Skepticism danced in the shadows of his face. Who was she kidding, anyone would be skeptical after that. She had spent a great deal of time in Grand Chokmah when she was travelling with Luke and the others, and, of course, the redhead had insisted on seeing practically every millimeter of the city for himself back then. Her excuse had been pathetic.

She glanced back up at him, waiting for an answer—steeling herself for the inevitable "no".

To her surprise—and relief—he laughed and said, "Well, this city hasn't changed all that much since you were last here, but, if you want, there is one place you haven't seen yet."

She was curious now. "What haven't I seen?"

He laughed again. "I can't tell you that, now can I? It would spoil the surprise."

She tried to pout but ended up smiling instead. "Very well then. I shall see it for myself later."

"That's a promise."

She turned and headed back down the dock to where Jade was waiting rather impatiently. An uneasy feeling turned in the pit of her stomach. What if he didn't show up?

No.

She would not think like that. She would see him later. That was all there was to it.

Still, she could not help worrying. But, at least if he didn't show up today, she would see him at the dance. Maybe, she would even get to dance with him.

At least, she thought with a sigh, that would make the dances more bearable.

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Jade had never been one for small talk. She had known this, but for some reason, she had believed he had changed in the years since their journey. She tried asking him politely simple questions: "How are you?" "How have things been?" "What have you been doing the past several years?"—those sort of things, but he deftly sidestepped each attempt at conversation as though it were an enemy.

She was more than gratefully when they approached the palace. The Emperor was nothing if not talkative. At least it would make a pleasant change from his taciturn friend.

The thought of seeing the Emperor, the man who would, in all likelihood soon become her husband, triggered a wave of discomfort that settled heavily in her limbs. She found herself wishing that she could indeed run away but quickly silenced that impulse. It would do no good. She had already promised herself that she would fulfill her duty as a Princess of Kimlasca and put the good of her people before her own happiness.

Thoughts of Guy surfaced in her mind. She tried to push them away, bury them beneath the thoughts of her kingdom and its people, but he refused to be forgotten. She sighed. He had been right to push her away; he had seen that if they were to form an…attachment to each other, it would only make her choice more difficult in the end. He had seen it, and tried to spare her from it.

She wondered what he had thought when she had asked him to spend time with her. Had he wanted to refuse? Had she even given him a chance to?

She was being selfish again, but, she could not go to her marriage (though her mind kept substituting "death" for "marriage") without seeing him again. And though she looked forward to dancing with him at the party, she could not be certain if she would even see him there, or…if he would even dance with her, knowing what she had to face.

The thought was…unbearable.

Jade's voice broke into her thoughts. "Your Highness, where are you going?"

She turned back to face him, only to see that he had stopped at the doorway that led to the castle's guestrooms. She, meanwhile, had stopped at the base of one of the twin staircases that led to the throne room.

"I thought we were going to see His Majesty," she said after a moment. "Don't we have an audience?"

Jade sighed and adjusted his glasses. "I suppose you haven't heard."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Heard what?"

He sighed again. "His Majesty is recovering from an illness."

"Nothing too serious, I hope," she said, not letting sarcasm edge into her voice.

"Just a cold." Jade shrugged. "I don't know _where_ he could have picked that up."

"So then, he will not be attending the party?"

For a moment, she felt terrible for being so excited at the prospect of the Emperor's being too sick to attend. She should not be rejoicing at someone else's misfortune, but it was far too tempting. His misfortune was most fortunate for her.

"Oh he will attend the party. He's just conserving his strength for the big event tomorrow."

Her face fell, and, from Jade's reaction, she knew he had seen it. Mercifully, however, the bespectacled man said nothing. He only held open a nearby door, indicating that she should proceed through there. She could not think of anything appropriate to say, so she nodded mutely and walked through the door.

Jade led her up a staircase and down several long hallways before stopping in front of an ornately decorated door. He bent slightly at the waist in a gesture she could only assume was a bow and indicated to the door.

"Your room, Your Highness."

She thanked him and pushed the door open. The room was lavishly decorated with large vases full of white lilies, ancient tapestries on every wall, plush carpet in a lovely shade of blue, and even, in one corner, a small fountain. The water for the fountain emerged from a pipe in the wall and flowed down several pipes detailed with mermaids and shells to a large marble basin embedded in the floor. Sheer curtains hung in front a set of glass doors that led to a large balcony. In the corner of the room opposite the fountain there was another door that she assumed led to a bathroom.

Behind her, Jade asked her if the room was satisfactory.

She stepped further into the room, mumbling some type of affirmative response as she did so. She stopped in front of one particularily beautiful tapestry bearing a representation of the palace and its many waterfalls. The weaving was extraordinary. In the shifting sunlight, it seemed as though the water in the picture was actually moving. She resisted the urge to touch the tapestry to see if the waterfalls were actually made of water.

"Well then," Jade said after a long moment, "I shall take my leave. I have business to attend to."

She mumbled some words of thanks and waited for him to close the door. When he did not, she looked back up at him, only to find him smiling somewhat eeriely.

"Y-yes, Colonel?"

His grin widened, revealing blindingly white teeth. "Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking that, if you saw Guy, tell him I need to speak with him. Would you?"

The request startled her, and, for a moment, she could form a coherent response. In the end, she simply nodded.

Jade returned the gesture, and shut the door. As his footsteps vanished down the hallway, she moved around the room. She took a quick look inside the bathroom, pleased to find that it included both a shower as well as a large marble tub. She rubbed her shoulders which had begun to ache. A long soak was starting to sound nice. Unfortunately, she didn't have anything to change into, so she lay down on the bed instead. She stretched, letting the aching slowly seep out of her bones.

It seemed ages since she had last sleep, and the peaceful darkness of sleep would have overwhelmed her completely, had not someone knocked on the door. At first, she thought it was Jade, but when she got up to open the door, Guy stepped in, carrying her travel trunk.

He set down the trunk, sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry that took me so long, but Jade caught me on the way up here."

"Oh," she said, "so he talked to you?"

The swordsman nodded, a frown momentarily crossing his face.

She wanted to ask what they had discussed but thought better of it. It was rude to pry.

"Well," he said, nudging the trunk with his foot, "where do you want this?"

"Anywhere's fine, thank you."

He pushed it into a corner and turned back to her. "Well then, shall we be going?"

She turned to look at him, a confused expression crossing her face. "What are you talking about."

He laughed. "You wanted to go sightseeing, didn't you?"

Oh, that's right!. "Yes, of course," she said. "I'd forgotten for a moment."

"Planning on taking a nap?" he asked, eyeing her rumpled hair and clothes.

"A bath, actually."

He shrugged. "Well, don't let me be one to stop you. If you want, we can go some other time."

"No," she said as she smoothed her clothes and ran a hand through her hair, "let's go now."

"You sure?"

She nodded.

He smiled. "Well then," he said, "let us go."

"Where?" she asked, somehow feeling the need to do so.

His smile widened.

"To my manor, Carmina Gaedelica."

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**Author's Note:**

Sooo, does anyone recognize the name of the manor? Lol. I just liked the name so much that I had to use it. Anyway, this part turned out really long as well. I had thought that it would be really short. So, now that they're finally at Grand Chokmah, things'll only get more interesting. The next chapter will cover the trip to Carmina Gaedelica. Until next time!


	11. Carmina Gaedelica

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thanks again for all the reviews! And yes, Carmina Gaedelica is from dot hack. It's the name of one of the root towns. (Yay to Tarame!  ) Anyway, thanks again to all readers and reviewers. Your support means so much to me.

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They wound through the streets of Grand Chokmah, taking a turn some way or another every so often. They followed an aqueduct until it merged with several others at a large fountain. She thought she saw several large houses off in the distance, but he passed those by, heading down a street that she could have sworn led out to the city limits.

At times they passed through wide avenues crowded with shops and, at times, through tiny alleyways that, somehow, managed to be dark even at midday. They passed by several more fountains, majestic statues of various nobles, several large parks filled with flowers of all imaginable colors and varieties. For a moment, she thought he might have gotten lost, but he moved with purpose, as though he was certain of where he was going.

Slowly, the crowds began to thin, and the buildings disappeared into trees, shrubs, and gentle, rolling hills. Turning, she saw the city grow smaller and smaller until it shrank into a small dot that danced on the horizon.

Where on earth were they going?

She turned to ask him, only to come face to face with a large gate set in a high stone wall. Looking back, she saw that they had indeed followed a road out of the city and had traveled some distance to the east.

He pushed the gate open, beckoning her to step inside. She did, and, suddenly, the wild landscape vanished, replaced by a vast, perfect lawn crossed by paths of white gravel and dotted with shrubs sculpted into various shapes. She noticed, with some amusement, that in the far corner of the garden, near the side of the house, there was a shrub in the shape of a cheagle. She couldn't help but laugh when she thought of how Tear would react if she saw it.

He called back to her from further along the path, and she ran to catch up to him. When she reached him, he led her along a side path through a flower garden to another, wider path flanked by short box-shaped hedges. A fountain further along the path sat between them and the house.

As they passed by the fountain, she noticed that the plants she had mistaken for plain shrubs were actually rose bushes, sprinkled with delicate ruby roses. She stopped to look at them, and he stepped up beside her.

"Would you like one?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him, a bit startled. "Pardon?"

"The roses," he said, "I noticed you were looking at them."

"They're beautiful," she said noncommitantly.

He nodded, as though sensing her hesitation. "They're a special variety that Pere bred."

"Pere?"

He nodded again. "He came here with me from Duke Fabre's manor."

She mimicked his action, not certain what to say. She simply stood and watched the roses swaying in the light breeze. Half-formed thoughts drifted slowly through her mind. What they were about, even she did not know. Some were of the past—of the Fabre manor and her memories of Pere. Some were of the rose garden at the castle. She was trying to figure out what the other thoughts were when something soft brushed against her cheek.

For a moment, she thought he had kissed her, and she pulled away, startled, only to find that he had plucked one of the roses and now held it up by the side of her face.

"Beautiful…" he murmured.

Whether he was referring to her or the flower, she did not know. He did not speak again, but the tenderness in his eyes was more than enough. For a brief moment, she wished he would kiss her.

Remembering her realization from earlier in the day, however, she quickly dismissed the notion. She did not wish to offend him by stepping away, so instead, she carefully took rose from his hand and tucked it in her hair, securing the short, thornless stem under her headband.

"Thank you," she said, smiling.

He blinked a couple times, as though surprised that she had pulled away.

"You're…welcome," he said at last. He looked away towards the manor.

She was glad he had turned away; she was not certain she could bear to see the look in his eyes, whether it was sadness or anger. She could not bear to see him hurt in any way. For that reason, she had sworn that she would not make the inevitable more painful for him. She would maintain her distance regardless of how much she wanted to run up to him, throw her arms around him and kiss him. She would not let her feelings show. She would save him, even if it broke her heart in the process.

"Let's go," he said, his words breaking the silence that stretched between them.

She could only nod and follow him mutely towards the manor.

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There were no words to describe the manor as a whole. She could only take it in in pieces. The marble steps that led up to the door, the alabaster columns that supported the second story balcony, the ornately engraved wooden doors, the rows and rows of large windows—"beautiful" seemed too simple a word.

The doors opened into a large hall, in the center of which were twin staircases that spiraled to the second floor. The ceiling that arched above them was painted in various shades of blue, mimicking a daytime sky. A multi-tiered crystal chandelier hung from the center of the dome.

As her eyes swept the room, they lighted on a large portrait at the top of the stairs. She started towards it, slowly climbing the stairs towards the second story landing. It took her a moment to recognize the person in the picture. She turned to look at Guy who had moved to stand beside her.

How different he looked from the person in his picture; here, he seemed so vibrant, so alive. She found the person in the portrait cold and distant somehow…

He made a sound beside her. "Ah, I can't believe they went ahead and hung that thing!"

She gave a nervous laugh, unsure of what to say about the portrait. "Who?" she asked instead, figuring it would be the safest option.

"Elsi and the other maids," he said with a sigh. "I told them that I wanted the portrait burned. Do you think they some how misunderstood?" he asked with a smile.

She laughed again, genuinely this time. "Probably."

"When the Emperor insisted I have my portrait painted, I agreed. I had not idea it would turn out like this." He waved a hand dismissively at the thing.

"I feel terrible for saying this," she said sheepishly, "but it's hideous."

He nodded approvingly. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

"It doesn't look a thing like you."

"I say," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "there is some resemblance. Consider the refined air, the noble profile, the—"

"—the frilly shirt…"

"—the frilly shirt…"

She laughed at the pouting frown that crossed his face. On any other noble, it would have seemed unsophisticated, but she couldn't help thinking that, on him, it was cute. Though she doubted that she would ever tell him that.

"I didn't choose what to wear," he said defensively.

"Let me guess," she said, "the Emperor…"

"The Emperor," he repeated.

She turned back to the picture, studying it carefully, until she suddenly burst into laughter.

"What?" he asked, startled.

"Your face. It's…"

He colored slightly and turned back to the portrait. "What?"

"You look like you're in agony."

The pout-frown returned. "Of course I was. I had to sit there for only Lorelei knows how long! It was…unbearable."

"Oh come now," she jibed, "it's not really all that bad."

"Have you ever had a portrait painted?"

"Of course."

"Recently?"

She shook her head. "No. I had one painted about…five years ago."

He seemed confused. "I thought you had one painted every year or so."

She looked away. "Normally," she said quietly, "that would be the case, but…"

He took several steps closer. "What is it?"

"Normally, I would—have my portrait painted every two years, but…now, that I am of age…it is traditional for my next portrait to be painted after I am married."

His face fell. "Your wedding picture," he said quietly.

She could only nod, uncertain of how to respond.

He glanced back towards a conspicuous blank space on the wall next to his picture. It was where the portrait of his wife would be hung when he married. For a moment, she allowed herself to envison her portrait hanging next to his. It would be nice.

A long silence stretched between them, until a maid called to them, telling them that dinner was ready to be served, if they wished to eat. She was not surprised to see that the servants in the manor addressed him casually yet respectfully. His staff were so at ease around him, that it was hard to believe that he was the lord of the manor. He treated them as he would treat anyone else—with respect.

She realized with a pang of regret that, before her journey, she would have been horrified to witness servants being so casual with any noble; to the old princess, it would have been a sign of utter disrespect. But here, there was no disrespect, only ease and friendliness. She wondered how the servants in the castle saw her.

"Don't worry," he said, as though reading her thoughts.

"About what?" she asked, defensively.

"Elsi."

She frowned. "Why would I worry?"

He smiled. "I can see it on your face. You're thinking about the servants in the castle, aren't you?"

The frown deepened.

"You don't have to worry. From what I heard in the kitchen, the servants are happy to work for you."

She chewed nervously on her lip. "That's not…"

She jumped when he placed a hand on her shoulder. "If it's..." he hesitated, "if it's about me, I…don't want you to worry about that either."

"But—!"

He shook his head. "You can't blame yourself for that."

She shrugged his hand off her shoulder and took a step back. "And who should I blame then? You?"

"If that will make you feel better."

She bit back a frustrated cry. "Stop it!"

The outburst startled him. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open.

"Stop it! Stop being so—so kind to me when I don't deserve it!"

"What makes you think you don't deserve kindness?" he asked quietly.

"How can you ask that after what I did to you?!"

His expression became unreadable. "_You_ have never hurt me."

For some reason, the statement stung. If he meant what he said, that she had never hurt him, than maybe nothing else had ever passed between them. She could only remember hurting him. Maybe then, she had been wrong, and he had not felt anything for her. Maybe—

He replaced his hand on her shoulder; she did not pull away. "_You_ never hurt me."

Why did he keep saying that?! Did he really want to hurt her that much?

Truthfully, she could not blame him if he did.

He took hold of her other shoulder, shaking her slightly but not harshly. "Listen to me, _you_ never hurt me."

It was too much to take. "But I did!" she burst out. "Back in Baticul—!"

"You were a different person back then," he cut in, "you can't be blamed for that. You've changed since then. That's all there is to it."

"But—!"

He ran his hands along her shoulders as though smoothing her clothes. "If it will make you feel better then, I accept your apology."

She rubbed at her eyes and looked up at him. "Why are you so good to me?" she asked, not thinking about what she was asking.

He took her free hand in his. "Because you are you," he said at last.

She wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but if had been right, she had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to say. He stepped back from her but kept hold of her hand.

"You're probably hungry," he said after a moment of silence, "Elsi's got some food ready if you want to eat."

She nodded. "That would be nice."

"Come on then, the dining room's this way."

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Dinner was a wonderfully simple affair of soup, salad, and pasta. She was pleased to find that he had not opted to use the formal dining table but, instead, had a smaller table set up near the large bay window at the other end of the room.

They ate in a comfortable silence. She couldn't help thinking that this was a most pleasant way to eat a meal—much better than that dining table in the Kimlascan castle. Certainly, it was convenient when there were a large number of guests. But otherwise, it was just so…awkward. This was much better she decided. When she got back to Baticul—if she could go back, she thought with a pang—she would make the suggestion to her father.

"Do you eat like this everyday?" she asked when they had finished eating.

"I think simple is best."

She smiled. "It was…nice," she agreed. "It reminded me of when we were traveling, and we used to eat around a campfire."

"The good old days?"

"Something like that."

She looked out the window which overlooked a large courtyard. This was a pleasant place, made even better by the presence of its owner. She glanced over at him, surprised to notice that he was watching her. She felt the blood rise in her cheeks.

"Y-yes?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

After a moment, he shook his head slowly, a smile creeping onto his face. "Nothing," he said, "I was just thinking how nice it was to spend some time together."

The blush intensified. "Yes, yes it is."

He hesitated for a moment, as though considering something then added, "It would be nice if we could spend more time together like this."

"Yes," she said slowly, "I do miss the others."

There was a silence, then he said, "That's not what I meant."

She looked up him, eyes wide. He placed his hand on the tabletop so close to hers that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

When he hesitated again, she felt her insides knot up painfully.

At last he said, "I want to spend time with you."

Her breath caught in her throat, and, suddenly, she became aware that her hand was inching towards his. His eyes held her gaze steadily and, had the table not stood inbetween them, she was certain he would have kissed her. What surprised her even more than this, however, was that he showed no sign of fear or regret as he had before.

This, she knew, was more dangerous than before. Even if he had not said it directly, she knew he wanted to spend time with her. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted something more.

She had not been certain this morning when she had talked with him at the docks, but now, she knew. It was a quiet kind of realization, nothing like what she had expected, and she wasn't at all certain how to respond. Instincitvely, she reached out and touched his hand lightly.

For a moment, he seemed startled, but then he twined his fingers in hers and pressed their palms together. It was a gesture full of longing and, somehow, far more intimate than even the kiss they had shared.

He knew. He had to. He knew how she felt about him, and he felt the same way she did. It was so terribly clear now. She tightened her grip on his hand, willing herself not to cry.

"I wish," she said at last, "that we had more time."

"So do I," he said. "So do I."

She blinked back tears. "Well," she said, trying to be cheerful, "at least we have the next three days. We can dance together. And maybe, if we dance together all three nights—"

His face fell.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

He looked away. "I—I'm sorry," he said, his voice trembling, "but, I won't be at the dance."

She tried to ignore the noise that roared in the back of her mind—tried to find some words to make everything make sense. "The first night, right? Well, then we can on the second night."

He shook his head again.

"Then the third?" she asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

She thought she would faint when he shook his head again. Her body suddenly became unable to support her, and she slumped back weakly in the chair. A sharp coldness seized her, and darkness crept into edges of her vision.

He was by her side in a second, kneeling beside her, and had placed his hand on the side of her face. The warmth of his touch revived her, as though she drew strength from his proximity.

"I—I don't understand," she said after several long moments, "why won't you be at the dances? You're nobility now, so I don't—"

"It's not that," he said. "I was put in charge of security for all three nights."

"Security?!"

The idea was so ludicrous; she did not see how it could possibly make sense. Guard duty?

"Why?" she asked, confused.

He gave a long sigh. "There have been several threats from various groups—malcontents and such—and, in order to ensure the safety of the various nobles attending, the Emperor has agreed, in conjunction with the Malkuth military, to step up patrols."

"But, why you?"

"It was a special request from the Emperor himself. He said that he trusted me to do this."

Inordinate amounts of rage surged through her veins. She couldn't help but think that the Emperor had done this to ensure her cooperation. A recently emboldened part of her screamed that she didn't have to "cooperate" with the Emperor if she didn't want to. But still…Kimlasca….

"What about—the Colonel?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Jade is to act as the Emperor's personal bodyguard."

"Why couldn't he let you do that?" she demanded.

"I guess, he just trusts Jade more."

She hesitated for a moment. "So, I won't be able to see you at all?" she asked, feeling her hopes crumble.

The pain was evident in his voice. "No," he said at last.

She gripped his shoulder until her knuckles turned white. He flinched but said nothing. She did not know how or when, but he had pulled her into his arms. He held her while she cried. She did not know how long they sat there, but by the time she felt she could once again stand on her own, the neck of his shirt was damp with her tears.

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**Author's Note:**

So, umm, sorry if this part seems rushed or if there are about a million typos. I really didn't have much time to write this week because of an evil, evil term paper that I was forced to work on. So, I essentially wrote this chapter in about ten hours or so and posted it right away, so that didn't leave much time for proofreading. It was either I finish it tonight or wait to update until Monday night. There shouldn't be any really bad errors…at least I hope not.

Anyway, the next chapter should cover the first night of the party. I'm not certain when I'll get it out, but I'll try to post it by Monday at the latest. But, again, this paper is being evil, so I can't really guarantee anything. Nevertheless, I'll do my best to get it out on time. Thanks again!


	12. Confusion

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews, especially of that last part. I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this part, but this whole week just flew by. Thank you so much for your patience.

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She pulled away, wiping clumsily at her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said at last, "I…that was undignified, wasn't it."

"You were upset," he said quietly, "you couldn't help it."

She shook her head. "I should not have overreacted as I did."

They stood, putting necessary distance between them.

"It was…a bit dramatic," he conceded after a moment's thought. "I seriously thought you were going to faint."

They fell silent.

She frowned slightly. "It just seems…wrong somehow."

"Unfair you mean."

"Perhaps," she admitted, "but, I was looking forward to seeing you at the dances."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

She nodded, heart sagging slightly at his reaction. He really had no idea how much he meant to her, did he? No idea why she had reacted the way she did when she found out he would not be attending the dances. She had wanted more than anything to spend the last three days of her freedom with him.

"Of course," she said after a moment's hesitation.

He looked away, as though uncertain of what to say.

"I wanted to dance with you," she said quietly.

His face turned a curious shade of red, and she could only imagine what was going through his mind.

"So did I."

Her eyes snapped to his. "P-pardon?"

She expected him to look away but was surprised when he did not. "I wanted to dance with you too."

His voice was steady, and he spoke without hesitation.

"If I could," he continued, "I would dance only with you."

The words stole her breath, but it did not surprise her. It was an admission of a kind she would never have expected. It was quiet, without drama or fanfare. When she thought about it, he had said it before in so many different ways, spoken and unspoken. Why had she not realized it before now?

Not only that, but why had it taken her so long to realize just how much he meant to her. How much she longed to remain by his side—for the rest of her life if she could.

Suddenly, it seemed strange to think in such terms. She had spent the past several days dreading her meeting with the Emperor—a meeting that she was certain would lead to an eventual marriage—a marriage she did not want. Now here she was, thinking about getting married.

If she had realized Guy's feelings sooner, might things have turned out different? Maybe, he had not felt the same way before. She was not even certain what her own feelings had been. Back then, she had been so focused on Asch that she had not ever really considered anyone else.

She had always had Asch, in a sense, even if he would never return to her. He was a safety net that she had taken for granted. When faced with the reality of his death, she had found herself at a crossroads and not yet ready to choose a path.

But if she had, if she had?

She looked back at him, and memories of the night in Chesedonia came flooding back to her—a night when she had had doubts similar to these. It had been the first time in many years that she had returned to Chesedonia, but, somehow, she still could not shake the memories of the eve of the offensive against Eldrant and how she had waited for Asch return.

That was the first time that she had actually had to face the prospect of losing Asch for good. She had felt terribly vulnerable—shamefully vulnerable even. It was the first time that she had really worried about her own future. Of course, she had worried about the future of the world, and though that was her most pressing concern, she could not help worrying about her own future.

The world would survive. They had decided that they would see to it, leaving no room for "ifs", but, what would become to her. She had known then what Anise was doing—that she was giving Luke and Tear some time to themselves. She would have to have been blind not to see the attraction between her friend and the melodist.

She was happy for them, really she was. But, at the same time, she now had no one to fall back on. She had joked once with her friends that she didn't necessarily have to choose between Asch and Luke, that she had other people she was interested in. She had done that to reassure her friends, especially Luke who would, undoubtedly, found some way to blame himself for her situation.

But, she could never have told them that, in fact, she was worried that she didn't have any other options. She had always assumed that she would marry Duke Fabre's son—one of them, anyway. She had never considered anyone else, let alone the man who had, then, been a servant in her fiancé's household.

Never had she even imagined that Guy would become so important to her. Once, she would have considered such a thing impossible. But as they had traveled together, fought together, defended each other, something had changed. The change had happened so gradually that she had not even been aware of it. When? At what point had she begun to think differently of him? When had he become so incredibly dear to her?

Somehow, she felt she had been aware of her feelings long before he had arrived in Baticul as the Emperor's emissary but had foolishly chosen not to acknowledge them. It had been worse to see him in person. Feelings so long buried had begun to resurface—memories of his past kindnesses. But she had not realized, nor expected that whatever she might have felt during her journey would have been strong enough to last through years of separation.

Somewhere along the line, she had tried to convince herself that it was frivolous—a mere crush, no real attraction. She had not even let the Emperor's "proposal" distress her at first. She did not want to marry the Emperor, but she had tried to convince herself that her objection had nothing to do with any lingering feelings she might have held towards a certain golden-haired count.

But she had known, with a terrible certainty, that her efforts were futile. That moment, in her room, when he had almost kissed her, she had known that her reservations had everything to do with him.

She kept telling herself that she would marry for the good of her country. Her country, her country, her country. But she knew, already, that it would be no good. She loved her country, but she loved him more. It had taken her years to admit even to herself that something that should have faded away with all the time and distance between them had only continued to grow stronger—had fed upon the very thing that was supposed to have destroyed it.

Over time, it had become so strong that she knew that it would last through everything. It was no longer a matter of simply…rewriting her feelings—of learning to love someone else. It could not be done. As terrible and as selfish as that sounded, she knew that it was true. She would not love anyone but him.

But she would have to. For the sake of the country that she loved as her own child, she would have to. But she could not.

Setting foot in Chesedonia had not done much to calm her either as it had only revived memories of the last time she was faced with the loss of a loved one. She had loved Asch, dearly. She had told herself that many, many times. He was the person she was supposed to marry; she would love him. It was a mantra—no, a prayer. She had wanted those to become her true feelings so that, she could at least be happy in a marriage that would be made for the sake of her country. And the prayer had worked; she had grown to love Asch in some strange way.

Even when she had found out that the Luke whom had proposed to her refused to ever return to her side—to the past he had left behind, she had found that her feelings towards him had remained.

Feelings. And what feelings were those?

She loved Asch, but she could not be certain how, or why she loved him.

Her feelings, she knew, were nowhere near as strong as the feelings that Tear obviously had for Luke, and she felt ashamed to say in the presence of such strong, pure love, that she _loved_ Asch.

He had been a companion, chosen for her by her father and the Duke, long, long before she could make a choice for herself. At that point, it had seemed inevitable that she would marry him. Her love, she feared, had grown out of that inevitability.

It wasn't that she felt nothing for him, however. To tell the truth, she had been worse than a lovesick schoolgirl around him, and her heart had fluttered whenever he so much as spoke to her. He had meant so much to her, but she could not say she loved him. She had no right to. She had not even known that he had been—for lack of a better term—replaced. She had only noticed small differences. It had never even occurred to her that the Luke who had been found at Choral Castle was an entirely different person.

Some small part of her kept telling her that there was no way she could have known; Luke was a perfect isofon. On some level, he was Asch. But still, she should have known, should have seen the difference. With how much she had said she loved Asch, she should have been able to see that the Luke who had returned was not Asch.

The Luke who had returned was not Asch. In some way, the past had once again predicted the future. Perhaps, on some level, she had known then that the Luke who returned from the ruins of Eldrant could never be Asch.

When they had talked at the Chesedonia docks before the offensive against Eldrant, Guy had told her that, if she cared about both Luke and Asch, that she should simply accept the outcome. She had agreed, not really thinking about what that would mean for her. And she had been glad that Luke had survived but had not thought about what that had meant either. She had simply accepted it, as she had been told.

It was her greatest fault, that she "simply accepted" things. When she thought about it, she was far worse than even Luke had been in that regard. At least he had grown out of it, even though it had cost thousands of lives to do so. She, however, still remained trapped and doubted that she would ever break free.

Growing up, she had been told she was a Princess, and she had accepted that. She had been told that she would marry Asch, and she had accepted that. She had been told to place the good of the country before her own, and she had accepted that. She had been told to accept, and so she had.

But Asch, in his goodness, had told her not to simply accept but to see—to experience things for herself, as though he too had sensed what was to come. His words had made her want to become someone who did not simply accept what they were told, and so, she had tried to learn things for herself.

In the end, however, when faced with the reality of his death she had found, to her dismay, that she could do nothing but accept.

And, after everything, here she was, again, simply accepting that, if the Emperor asked her, she would marry him for the good of her country. Not only that, but the one time she had loved someone of her own will, she found every conceivable obstacle placed between her and Guy.

Briefly, she wondered what would have happened if the Score still existed. Would it have saved her from having to choose between her own happiness and the happiness of her people? Was it really that powerful a thing that it could make her dismiss her feelings towards one person simply because it said she would marry another?

She quickly dismissed the thought. She and the others had fought so that they would not be bound by such a terrible thing—so that they would have the freedom to make such choices for themselves, and, as much as it hurt her, it was not something she would willingly give up.

General Frings—she thought with a pang—had been right. A world without the Score was such a terribly freeing thing indeed.

She had a choice. Or did she?

She was no longer being led by the Score but by her own ethics. And, for a moment, she was not certain which was crueler.

Had she the freedom—the choice—she knew she would stay with Guy. She knew that without a doubt. The problem was that she had the freedom, but at the same time, she didn't. The faces of her people refused to fade quietly into the background as she selfishly wished them to.

Her conviction had wavered then, and she had found that she could not bear it. She had wanted even then to choose him, even though she knew she couldn't. But she could! She could choose him if only she could!

To say that the thoughts which had raced through her mind that night in Chesedonia had been maddening would have been an understatement. She had hated to make him worry, but she had to get away.

For a moment, she had not been certain where she would go, but her memories had drawn her towards the docks. Once, in that place, there had been, for the briefest moment, clarity. She had been told to accept, and so she had. She would return there and hope to find the same peace.

Her escape had been an effort to renew her conviction. She would accept whatever was to come. It was the only way she could think to deal with the terrible certainty. By the time he came after her, as she knew he eventually would, she hoped she would be steady enough to face him.

But thoughts of Asch had overwhelmed her, and when he had arrived, she had found herself even more uncertain than before.

As she looked at him and saw the concern—no, the fear written plainly across his features, saw the relief in his eyes when he had seen her, heard the the kindness in his voice, and felt the gentleness in his touch, her heart began to waver again.

It was her duty to protect her people. Her duty to provide for them. Her duty to care for them. Her duty, her duty, her duty, just as it was his duty to protect her.

When he had said that he was there of his own will, she had felt her resolve begin to crumble. Free will? No! Duty! She could not allow free-will to involve itself. It was his duty. It had to be!

But still, the thought stung her. He had said it was free-will, but what if it was duty? What if, the only reason he had ever been kind to her was out of duty and nothing else?

Thoughts of Asch had resurfaced in her mind. What if it was the same with Asch. What if, in the same way she had felt it her duty to care for Asch, Asch had felt it to be his duty to care for her? Maybe, that was the reason that, even when he had the option, Asch had never returned for her.

Her heart had shattered at the thought. It would make sense. Asch had always focused on his duty, kept moving forward, never looking back to where she had waited for him. He had always done his duty whether he duty was to stop Van, to free Lorelei, or even to die. Maybe, she had never been anything more than another duty to him. Another duty, another burden, as always. She could not bear the thought that she might be the same thing to Guy—another duty, another burden.

She had expected him to say something reassuring and had steeled herself to dismiss it. But the honesty in his voice forbade a casual dismissal. What had surprised her even more than that, however, was that he was able to touch her without trembling—even if only for a moment. She tried to tell herself that he was simply recovering from his gynophobia, but her heart had lept up in her chest, telling her that there was something more to this. She had refused to listen then, but, looking back, she was amazed that she hadn't noticed his feelings sooner.

She had not, however, and there was no changing that. In fact, there was no changing any of this. It simply was the way it was, and she would have to accept, as always.

"Would you like to see the garden?"

It took her a moment to realize that he had spoken. She turned back to him, feeling the somber clouds of reminiscence dissolve in the warmth of his presence.

"The garden?" she asked. "I thought we already saw it on the way in."

He shook his head. "No, no,no, I didn't mean that garden. I meant…well—I'm not sure how to explain it, but you'll see if you come with me."

She glanced out the window where the sky was painted a brilliant shade of orange. "Do we have time?"

He hesitated, but then said quietly, "If you wish it, we will have all the time in the world."

She did not let herself dwell on the meaning buried in his words. Instead, she nodded mutely, accepting his hand when he offered it to her, and followed him to the garden.

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**Author's Note:**

Again, I apologize for missing my Sunday/Monday update. I was positively swamped this week with work for that evil, evil term paper. I just don't get it. If I'm going to have to write such a long paper in, effectively, three days, then why can't I just pull an all-nighter or two instead of having to show a chunk of pages every day in class?? I mean, what's the difference? Oh, well, the bulk of the work should be over by the end of next week, so updates should return to their usual Sunday/ Monday and Thursday schedule. Until then, I'm not sure. But anyways, this part was supposed to cover up to the return to Grand Chokmah, but it got really long so I decided to cut it and post it early The next part might be a little short, but it should be up by Saturday/Sunday, depending on how much time I have to write the fanfic.

Again, I apologize for the lateness.


	13. Resolutions

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all again for your patience and your kindness. I worked my hardest on this part. I hope it came out well.

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A sudden rush of cool air caught her as she stepped out into the courtyard, and she shivered involuntarily. The vibrant afternoon sun had painted the world gold and made it seem deceptively warm.

A blanket dropped suddenly around her shoulders, and she turned back to see Guy standing beside her.

"You were shivering," he said after a moment. "I wouldn't want you to catch cold now."

She pulled the blanket tighter around her, clutching the hem tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning away to glance out at the courtyard which she had viewed earlier from the dining room.

Behind her, he made a sound but then fell silent. His hand lighted momentarily on her shoulder before he said, "This way."

She followed him through a colonnade that, at first, seemed to dead-end up ahead. When they approached, however, she saw that, what she thought was a wall was actually a door, but the room which lay beyond was so dark, that, in the shadows of the corridor, she had thought it a wall.

He turned back to her, a childishly excited smile splayed across his face.

"Close your eyes," he said, the smile growing even wider.

She wanted to ask him why but thought better of it. After all, there was only one thing in the world that could make him act like a little kid. Fontech.

But she was curious what kind of Fontech was still working and decided to humor him. She shut her eyes slowly and extended a hand to him. There was a moment when her hand hung expectantly in the cold air. Then she heard him move closer—so close that his breath brushed the top of her head. He reached around her and took hold of her outstretched hand, lacing his fingers in hers. His other hand slipped lightly around her waist.

"Watch your step," he joked, his voice quiet.

She gave a low, nervous laugh. "I would if I could."

He moved, indicating she should take a step forward.

"Just trust me," he said when she tensed.

She tightened her grip on his hand and leaned back a little until the top of her head brushed against his chin. "I always have," she said at last.

For a moment, he was silent, but then he pulled his hand from her waist and let his other hand fall from hers. She was startled when he stepped away from her. She wanted to open her eyes to find him, but after a moment he took hold of both her hands again. However, she could tell that he now stood an arm's length away from her.

The loss of his proximity disoriented her momentarily, and she instinctively gripped his hands tighter. At first, he did not seem to react, but then, he returned the gesture.

He took a slow step back and, not wanting to be separated from him, she followed albiet slowly. They took one step, then another and another, moving first in one direction then another. It was almost like a dance, only she did not know the steps. The movement disoriented her, and she stumbled. He stepped closer, supporting her.

"Just take your time," he soothed. "You'll be fine."

"So long as you don't leave me."

He hesitated, then, "Don't worry, I won't ever leave you."

She had the childish urge to make him promise but thought better of it. It was enough that he had said it; she would not ask him for more.

Suddenly, he stopped walking. She did not realize this and walked straight into him.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Are we here? Can I open my eyes?"

He laughed. "Impatient, aren't we?"

She frowned, but it quickly melted into a smile. " 'Curious' is more like it. I want to see this mysterious garden of yours."

"In a second," he said, "I just have to get everything ready."

"Ready?"

"You'll see. Just wait here. I'll be back in a second."

As he said this, he pulled his hands from hers, and she found it difficult to keep from reaching out for him when he had stepped away. Instead, she let her arms fall limply to her sides and tried to convince herself that she was not uncomfortable standing there in the dark, by herself. Instead, she tried to focus on some of her senses other than sight.

The cold air was richly perfumed with what she assumed were the scents of many, many flowers—only a few types which she could identify. She could hear the sound of water flowing coming from all around the room and assumed that there must be a fountain of some sort. Over the sound of the water, she could hear tiny mechanisms whirring softly—barely audible over the other sounds in the room. Ahh, that must be the Fontech or whatever that he was so excited about.

By this point, she had grown accustomed to the darkness, and she was surprised when, gradually, a faint glow painted the edges of the darkness. As she was trying to figure out what was going on without opening her eyes, a hand placed itself on her shoulder. She jumped involuntarily.

"Sorry," he said, "I forgot. I guess I should have said something."

"It's all right," she said, trying to sound calm. At least he was by her side again; it was more than she had right to hope for.

He replaced his hands on her shoulders again and stood behind her. He leaned forward and said in a soft voice, "You can open your eyes now."

What greeted her was a garden more beautiful than any she had ever seen, for she had never seen one quite like it before. At the moment, she was standing in a gazebo in the center of a circular room. The gazebo itself sat on a small island of land isolated in the middle of a pond. Two walkways circled the island at set distances, connected to the island by long walkways. The outermost circular walkway which reached to the edges of the room was lined with plants and flowers of various shapes, sizes, and colors.

Around the gazebo, however, were flowers she did recognize.

"Selenias," she breathed.

The small white flowers were currently in bloom and seemed to glow in the darkness of the room. She turned back to her companion who was watching her with a smile.

"But how?" she asked.

He glanced up towards the ceiling, and she followed his gaze.

"The artisans from Sheridan and Belkend designed this for me. It's a mechanism that can approximate the light levels at various times of day. I just set to night so that the selenias would bloom."

A large dome stretched above her, much like the one she had seen in the entry way of the mansion itself, except this one seemed to be dotted with tiny, glowing stars which cast a faint light over the whole room.

As her eyes moved from the ceiling down the walls, she noticed that the walls too seemed to glow with the same light as the stars on the ceiling, almost as though they were reflecting light as well.

"The walls are embedded with tiny fragments of mirrorstone," he explained.

She looked back to him. "It's…beautiful," she said at last.

His smile widened, and the expression was reflected in his eyes. "I'm happy you approve," he said.

"Approve?" she asked increduously. "It's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen!"

He blinked a couple times, as though disbelieving, but then let out a laugh. "Well then, I'm happy you like it all the same."

She looked around the garden, smiling as she did so. "If I could," she said, "I would spend all my time here."

"I would like that," he said, so quietly that she wasn't certain that she had heard him correctly over the water.

"Pardon?" she asked, uncertain.

He looked back up at her, seemingly shocked either that she had heard him or that he had said that out loud. It hurt her to see that the fear had, again, returned to his eyes. She took a step towards him, not surprised when he took a step backwards.

"Wait," she said, surprised at the pleading tone in her voice.

He froze in place, as though bound there by her words. As she reached out a hand to him, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart which throbbed painfully in her chest.

It was a risk, and she knew it. This moment was precariously balanced. He was on the verge of pulling away and she on the verge of losing her confidence. She did not want him to pull away, and she knew that, if she did not reach out to him now she might lose her chance with him. If she did not do something now, he might misinterpret her hesitation as unwillingness and pull away for good.

But it was terrifying to take that step, to hold on to him when he seemed to want to pull away, and she wished she didn't have to be the one to make that decision. Although, the only alternative was that he would have to make the decision, and she knew that he would never push her to make a decision.

She reached out and took hold of his hand, clasping it firmly in hers. He was visibly surprised at her action, and, as she looked up at him, she noticed the pain in his eyes and almost let go.

"Princess, I—"

She cut him off. "Guy, I've told you before, call me by my name."

He tried to pull away again, but she tightened her grip again. He looked from her face to the ground, then away to a corner of the small garden.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, "but I can't."

"Why?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"I can't—I mean, this is…"

"What is it?" she asked, giving his hand a desperate tug.

He hesitated. "I can't tell you."

"Why?!"

"Because I can't!" he roared, frustrated, freeing his hand from hers with a vicious jerk.

She tug a step backward, caught off guard by his sudden ferocity, and clutched her hand to her chest. Had she misinterpreted earlier? She had thought she had understood his feelings. Had she missed something, some vital piece of information that would explain why he would not even call her by her name?

She could understand that he was stuggling with his feelings, and that she was being terribly selfish by asking him to express those feelings when they both knew that, in a few days, it would come to nothing.

But still, he had her heart, couldn't he just accept it? It was a selfish way to think, but still, one of them had to be selfish or this would never go anywhere. He had her heart, and she knew that he would always have it regardless of whatever became of her. She wanted him to know—to accept her feelings, to know that she loved him as strongly as he loved her. But how, how could she tell him when she could not even say the words?

She was startled when he approached her and took her hand in his.

"I'm sorry," he said, running the fingers of his free hand lightly over hers. "I didn't mean to lash out at you like that."

She shook her head slowly. "No, it's all right. I shouldn't have pried."

He mimicked her gesture. "You were right to ask. You deserve an explanation."

He gestured towards a bench on one side of the gazebo.

"Let's have a seat, shall we?" he suggested.

She nodded and moved to sit beside him. She noticed, with some disappointment, that he let go of her hand when they sat. She seemed uncertain what to do with her hands so she let them lie limply in her lap.

As she looked at him, she noticed that he seemed to be avoiding her eyes, glancing from one part of the room to another. At last, he let out a sigh and looked her in the eyes.

"Let me tell you a story," he began, "one that I heard in my childhood. It was about a man who sought only revenge—a man who believed that there was nothing else in the world but the pain that he suffered every waking moment of his life."

Her breath caught in her throat, but she remained silent.

"This man had once lived a happy life, but everything he held dear had been stolen from him by a band of thieves. Somehow, he alone survived the attack. For a long time, he wandered, without purpose, trying to figure out why he had survived when there were so many others who had deserved to live instead."

She wanted to reach out and place a reassuring hand on his but hesitated when she saw the look in his eyes. It would probably be best to let him finish.

He drew a breath before continuing. "One day, however, he managed to find out where the band of thieves had made their camp, and he decided that he would infiltrate the camp and do whatever it took to get close enough to the person who had done this to him to take his revenge.

"It took many, many years for him to work his way up—to gain the trust of these thieves. At some points, he had to fight to remember the reason he had 'joined' them, and he worried that his resolve was beginning to slip away.

"He had gotten used to living among them, and though he retained the hatred he had for those who had hurt him, he had realized that, not all of the people were like them. Among these people whom he had once considered a band of cruel thieves, there were those who were good, kind, and trusting—innocent, just as he once had been. And, as much as he hated the idea, those people became precious to him, and, once again, he found his desire for revenge slipping away entirely.

"For a long time he hated himself for forgetting the people he had once loved so dearly and the revenge he had sworn in their name. The hatred he had once felt for his enemies, he now felt for himself.But he had sworn to himself that he would not make any innocent suffer as he once had.

"One day, he happened to meet the leader of these people—he could no longer call them thieves—and was surprised to find that , though he had not forgiven the man for his involvement in the disaster, he could not hate him. This leader was doing what he had thought necessary for the good of his people, and even though the man could not understand why his own people had to die, he could almost respect this leader who lived for his people.

"It was at this point that he met the girl who would become the next leader of these people. At first, he thought her arrogant, imperious, and hard-hearted, but over time, as he got to know her he found that, like her father, she cared intensely about her people and would sacrifice, anything—even her own happiness—for them. It was a noble trait that he could not help respecting.

"But the amazing thing about her was that she cared not only for her own people, but all the peoples of the world. She did not see difference as evil, and would not tolerate the senseless violence that many other rulers before her had seemed to condone. With her, it was not a matter of helping her people alone—of working for their good at the expense of other people—it was of caring for all people equally, not of sacrificing others senselessly. It was this that earned her the man's respect and loyalty.

"He realized then that the revenge that he had so long sought would not bring about a world in which such senseless slaughter as the one he had witnessed would not take place. His revenge would only hurt others in the same way that he had been hurt. And he knew that he did not want to cause any innocent such pain.

"He thought, however, that if that girl became the clan's leader, that the world might become the way that he wanted it to be. He saw in her the goodness that could make such a peaceful world possible, and he wanted to help her.

"He could not help her directly, however, so he helped in the only way he could. She had been betrothed some time before, to the son of the man he served. The boy, however, was stubborn and willful, and, would not likely be as good leader as she, so, the man took it upon himself to teach the boy the values that he had seen in the girl.

"After many years, however, the engagement was…broken, and girl would have to find another fianceé. By this point, the man had watched over her for quite some time and had, in some way, become quite fond of her. He had protected her from afar through the years and had found that he wished to protect her for the rest of his life, if he was allowed. But, alas, it was not to be. Another fianceé would soon be chosen for her.

"He did not know who this fianceé would be, but, he knew that, no matter who she chose, his feelings for her would remain the same. That day, he swore that he would always watch over her for the rest of his life, no matter what. It was then, that he realized just how much she meant to him—just how much he loved her."

He paused and looked away. When he did not resume speaking, she assumed he had finished. She reached over and placed a hand on his arm. The sudden contact seemed to startle him. He jumped, and his eyes snapped back to hers.

"What about the ending?" she asked quietly, her hand slipping down into his.

"I-I don't know," he admitted, "I never heard the end of the story."

She slid over on the bench, closing the short distance between them. He tried to pull away and free his hand from hers, but she refused to let go.

"Was there really a story like that?" she asked, unable to keep her voice steady.

He remained silent for a moment, but then a small smile appeared on the corners of his lips. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and shook his head slowly.

"No," he said at last. "But it made it easier to say."

It took her a moment to realize the implications of that statement. Had he just said what she thought he said?

He stood and pulled his hand free. In her shock, she let him go. He walked to the other end of the gazebo, leaned over the railing, and ran a hand through his short hair.

"I'm sorry," he said as he looked out over the garden. "I said too much, didn't I? You must be angry."

She stood and joined him at the railing. "I'm not angry," she said.

He did not look at her, so she slipped under his arm, squeezing herself between him and the railing. He blushed and would have stepped away had she not locked her hands around his wrists. Had he struggled, he could easily have freed himself, but, at the moment, he seemed more shocked than anything. As such, she easily pinned his hands to the railing. Not only that but, at this distance, she knew he found it difficult to avoid looking at her.

"Let me tell you something about that story," she said after a moment. "Something that you couldn't have known about it."

He looked down at her, blushing even deeper when their eyes locked. "And…what is that?"

She took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"That the girl felt the same way."

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**Author's Note:**

Kyaa! It's a cliffhanger! (Well, kind of anyway.) Personally, I really like how this part turned out. After all, it was inspired by one of my favorite Star Trek episodes ever. I even named this chapter after the episode, as a tribute. Just a quick note about the chapter name—it's "Resolutions" in the sense of "promises" not "endings". There will be more chapters after this one. So, until then!


	14. Sufficiency

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind reviews! Also, I re-uploaded this chapter afer fixing a few major dialogue mistakes in the original version. Sorry about that, but I had to adjust Pere's last line a bit to make the part make more sense. I apologize for the inconvenience.

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A heavy silence pervaded the small room, broken only by their breathing and the soft splashing of the water. Neither seemed able to say anything as words and speech seemed to have deserted both of them.

She watched the emotions playing across his face, trying desperately to read them. In the end, however, he stepped away from her. She did not follow him, instead choosing to watch him as he paced from one end of the gazebo to the other.

After several long moments, he stopped pacing, sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. She wanted to ask him if he was all right but chose to remain silent. She had already said everything she could think to say. Everything was up to him now. She had made her decision; he had to make his own choice.

She noticed that he looked back at her now. They stared at each other then quickly turned away, both their faces reddening. She stared down at the selenias and wished he would say something, anything to break the silence.

"Did you mean that?" he asked at last.

She locked her eyes on the flower, unable to turn around for some reason.

"Yes," she said simply.

The word was barely out of her mouth before he was beside her. She had not even seen him close the distance between them. She could not bring herself to look up at him; her fear and uncertainty threatened to overwhelm her.

To her surprise, he gently lifted her chin and turned her head so she was looking at him. Hope and desperation warred with each other in the depths of his eyes. After a long moment, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her as close as he possibly could, burying his face in her shoulder.

He was holding her so tightly that she found it difficult to move, but she managed to slip her arms around his waist. His breaths were shallow and ragged, and his chest heaved brokenly against hers. He made no audible sound, but she was certain that he was crying. She tightened her embrace. It was the only thing that she felt she could do.

She did not think it even possible, but he tightened his embrace even more, as though he was scared to let her go. But, she could not blame him for being scared; she too was terrified of letting go—more terrified than she wanted to admit. She buried her face into his chest, trying to block out the outside world.

How she wished it could just be the two of them, forever in this garden, with nothing but blackness and void beyond the walls. She pressed a kiss to the base of his neck, wishing that she had the words to tell him just how much he meant to her.

He pulled back slightly to look at her. There was barely time enough for her to draw breath before his lips pressed firmly against hers. She moved in closer, kissing him back, trying to convey in actions what she could not say in words.

They parted briefly, each giving the other a chance to breathe. He leaned in again, nuzzling against her cheek. The sensation of his breath against her neck sent pleasant tremors through her whole body.

She felt him tense momentarily, then, at last he said, "I-I can't—" he tightened his embrace, "I mean, I don't…"

His shoulders began to shake again, and she ran one of her hands in circles over his back in an effort to comfort him. "What do you mean?" she asked , worried that he might pull away. She wasn't certain she couldn't handle the loss of his presence now.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and placed a hand on the the back of her head, twining his fingers through her hair and gently pressing her head against his chest. She turned her head slightly, resting comfortably against him.

There was a long moment when he did not speak, and, for a moment, she feared that he would not tell her what was on his mind. But it wasn't only that. True, she wanted to know what was bothering him, but, more than that, she worried that whatever was bothering him would pull him away from her.

It was selfish of her, she knew. If he wanted to pull back, it should be his right to, but they were so close! And she did not want to—no, she _could not_ lose him now.

He let out a sigh. "I'm so…happy," he said after a long pause.

"Is that a problem?" she mumbled to his chest..

He gave a weak laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "No, no, that's not it. I just…can't imagine what I did to deserve this—to deserve you."

Emotion flooded her heart, and again, she found words had deserted her. The only sound that she was able to make turned out to be a soft hiccuping squeak. He laughed again, genuinely this time, and kissed the crown of her head again.

"That was cute—whatever it was."

She turned her head to look up at him as best she could. He pulled back a little so she could see his face better. She must have had a strange expression on her face, because he burst into laughter, taking a small step back as he did so.

"What?" she asked, unable to mask her slightly defensive tone.

He let go of her momentarily and reached up to trail his fingers along her jawline.

"I never told you," he said, regret tinging his voice, "but you are so beautiful."

He hesitated momentarily before continuing.

"I'd always wanted to say that," he admitted, cupping the side of her face in his palm, "that and so much more."

"Guy," she began, only to be gently silenced when he placed a finger on her lips.

"So many things," he mused, "that it would take a lifetime to tell you. I want…to tell you everything. I want you to know, just how much you mean to me."

Her breath caught in her throat at the words she had never expected to hear from him. It was already more than she had ever let herself hope for. Against her will, her eyes began to sting. Gently, he thumbed away the tears that threatened to fall.

"Oh no," he murmured, "now I've made you cry."

His words, simple though they were, washed over her like a wave that she could not help being swept along by. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but the traitorous droplets slipped out from between the lids, and trailed along her lashes before he would wipe them away with his thumb.

She hadn't meant to cry—truly she hadn't, but it was too much for her. How could he think that he didn't deserve her—he who was so good, so patient, so kind? How could she make him understand that if anyone was undeserving, it surely was she?

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly, "you've made me happy—happier than I have any right to be."

"Why would you say that?" he asked, frowning.

She looked away. "I've been so selfish. I've hurt you in a way that can never be forgiven."

He forced a smile. "I thought we'd been through this already."

"No, that's not what I meant."

Fake or not, the smile now disappeared. "What did you mean then?"

She stepped back. "You deserve so much more than me. You deserve someone who can make you happy—who can give you everything you want and more."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "But you _are_ everything I want—in all the world, in all the universe even! I mean—I know it sounds crazy, but—gods!—if only there was a way to show you that it's all true!" He gestured to the room around them, and for the first time, she looked away from him. "This place," he continued his voice dropping to a tender quiet, "I mean—I love it here, but this room, this mansion, this estate—all of it—it means nothing to me, compared to you."

"And that's exactly why I don't deserve you!" she burst out, forcing herself away from him, "because I can't say the same thing!"

He had started towards her when she had pulled away but had pulled back as though he had been slapped at her words. He turned away, but she took hold of his arm.

"Guy, I didn't mean it like that."

He did not look at her. "I should have known it was too good to be true."

She was uncertain what to say. "I didn't lie," she said at last. "I do…care for you…very much." She blushed crimson at the words; it was, after all, the first time she had actually said that directly to him. "But…I can't say that you're the only thing that matters to me!"

He turned around suddenly, as though he understood, and she relaxed slightly. "Your people," he whispered.

His hand slipped into hers, and she gripped it tightly for support.

"A princess," she said quietly, "carries the weight of her country and her people on her shoulders. It is a burden she can never relinquish, as much, as she might sometimes want to."

She looked away and sighed. "It's selfish of me, isn't it?" she asked, forcing herself to look him in the eyes, "A princess who wants to abandon her people for her own happiness."

"But you won't abandon your people, will you?"

She looked at him, this man who was so terribly precious to her—this man whom she loved so dearly and said, "No."

Love and pain mingled in his gaze, and for a moment, just for a moment, she thought she saw tears mist his eyes. She blinked, and when she looked back, his gaze was clear and strong.

"I understand," he said at last. "And I will not force you to make a choice." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "Go," he said, "and do what you must."

Her heart ached inside her chest. "You will always, always have my heart," she said, "even if I belong to someone else."

He shook his head. "You do not _belong_ to anyone. Always remember that. If you do, I can be happy. Knowing that you know that, and that you…feel for me as you do will be enough." He shook his head again, slower this time, as though realizing something. "No," he admitted after a moment, "it could never be enough—never in all the world, but I will _make_ it be enough, for your sake."

He started towards the door.

"Guy!" she called out, reaching instinctively for him. He pulled away again, much as he had done on the boat.

"It's getting late," he said without turning to look back at her, "you should return to the capital."

"Yes," she said quietly. "I suppose I should."

"I'll have the servants prepare a carriage for you."

"You won't escort me?" she asked, disappointed.

"It's nearly dark," he said, "it would be far safer for you to travel by carriage."

"I suppose," she said.

"Besides," he began, "I think it best that we…stay apart for the next three days…at least until you've made your…arrangements with the Emperor. At least, I figure you will, and I don't want to make your decision any more difficult than I already have."

Her heart sank. She had expected something like this but still hoped it wouldn't happen. Truly, she wanted him to stay but knew she had no right to ask. It would only hurt him more, and she did not wish for that.

"I…understand," she said at last. "But, will you at least see me off?"

He turned back to smile at her. "Of course," he said, extending his hand. "This day's not over yet, is it?"

She shook her head and blinked back tears. "No, it isn't."

She took hold of his hand and allowed him to guide her from the starlight garden to the front of the manor where the carriage would be waiting.

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The carriage was already there waiting when they arrived, and Guy found himself wondering how the servants had gotten everything ready so quickly. It seemed as though they had been prepared for quite some time. He stifled a sigh. This was probably Pere and Elsi's doing, and, knowing them, they had probably prepared something other than a carriage just in case.

He looked down at the former-sword-instructor-turned-gardener who stood beside him, making a mental note to have a word with him later when his mind was clearer. He did notice, however, in the flickering light of the lantern the older man carried that an unusually serious look sat upon the gardener's face. Only rarely in the many years since the destruction of Hod had he seen such a severe expression on Pere's face. The older man usually tried to remain light-hearted even in the most dire of circumstances, if only for his charge's sake. Pere must have been severely displeased.

"I thought you would go with her," Pere remarked to him as the carriage carrying the princess disappeared through the manor's gates, "or at least ask her to stay."

"I couldn't," Guy said, "it would have been too difficult for her."

"Too difficult for you, you mean."

Guy turned sharply to face the man, only to be met by a pointed glare. "What do you mean?" the young noble asked, defensive.

Pere sighed and turned his attention back to the lantern whose flame was beginning to quiver in the brisk evening wind. "It's the same as when you left here to escort her from Kimlasca to Grand Chokmah, isn't it? You couldn't stand the thought that you would have to, essentially, deliver her into the hands of another man."

"She is not a thing to be _delivered_!"

"That's not the point!" Pere cut in.

"Then what is?!" Guy roared, frustrated.

"That you're a coward!"

Guy stiffened. "What did you say?"

Pere did not back down. "I said that you're a coward, Gailardia!"

"Don't take that tone with me, Pere, I—"

"And don't you interrupt me, child!"

Guy backed away, a bit startled.

Pere let out a long, tired sigh, before turning back to the younger man. "I understand," he began, his voice having resumed its usual, calm tone, "that it is far more difficult for you now than before you brought her here, especially since you now know how you both feel."

"How do you know that?!"

"I listened and watched."

"You spied on us?!"

"No," Pere said simply, "it was just a matter of observing you two before and after you entered the garden. "It was clear that something between the two of you had changed." He sighed again. "But still, I hadn't expected it to turn out like this!"

The older man waved a hand vaguely in the direction in which the carriage had left.

"There was nothing else I could do," Guy said quietly.

"You could have asked her to stay the night."

Guy gaped silently at the man.

"She would have. Of that, I am certain."

Guy's face reddened involuntarily. "I wouldn't—I couldn't do that to her! Even if she—stayed, it would change nothing except the fact that she would essentially be my mistress. It would only hurt her in the end."

"You're wrong there," Pere said after a long moment.

"How so?" he asked.

"Asking her to stay would have shown her that you were willing to take the risk of being with her in the first place."

"Don't you understand?" Guy burst out, "I can _never_ be with her! She already told me that she can't let go of her duty to her people. She'll marry the Emperor, and that will be the end of it."

"Are you not listening to me, Gailardia?!" Pere thundered. "Of course she won't just abandon her country for you. I wouldn't respect her if she did, and I'm certain you wouldn't either. Don't you see? She's not looking for a way out of her duty, she's looking for someone who will share her burden with her! She wants someone who will love her country even more than they love her!"

"I do care about Kimlasca!" he fired back. "Why do you think I'm letting her go off to the Emperor?!"

"It has nothing to do with the Emperor! He would be no better for Kimlasca than any other noble! He would care primarily about his own country, just as she would for hers. It would not make her happy in the end, even if it seems like it would."

"Then what would make her happy?!"

"I told you," Pere said calmly, "finding someone who loves Kimlasca as much as she does."

"But I do love—"

"You love _her_, not her country."

"So what?! You want me to tell her that I love her country but that she means nothing?!"

"No, of course not! I want you to tell her that you love Kimlasca even more than you love her! It's obvious to everyone how much you love her, think of what it would mean to her if you could love Kimlasca more! Not only that, but she's trying to make you understand that marrying her is a risk! It would place you on the throne of Kimlasca, as the ruler of hundreds of thousands of people. When so many lives are at stake, you cannot afford to care about one person more than you care about the whole. It seems cruel, but it is the truth! If you are to marry her, you _cannot_ care more about her than you do about Kimlasca! A ruler's duty is to his people and to _no one_ else!"

Guy turned away and shook his head slowly. "No, I can't do that to her. You may be right, that it is a ruler's duty to care for his people, but it is a husband's duty to care for his wife. She will _never_ be second to anything!"

Pere studied him for a moment before turning away and heading back towards the mansion. "You say that," he said as he and the light receded into the darkness, "but you've already made her second to your fear. With that attitude, you're certain to lose."

"Lose?" he muttered to himself, "I've already lost."

He craned his neck, glancing towards the sky where not even a single star sparkled, letting the dark and cold of the night wash over him. He thought briefly of heading to Grand Chokmah and bringing her back with him, but quickly decided against it.

He sighed and headed back towards the manor. Maybe Pere was right, and he was just a coward. In that case, he had no right to interfere now, no matter what her feelings might be.

Three days, three days. After that, it wouldn't matter, at least, it shouldn't, but he knew it would. He tried to think back to her words in the garden, the look on her face, the feel of her in his arms, the kiss—he wanted to remember them all, every detail of every moment because that was all he had now. And it would have to be enough. He had promised her that he would make it enough. Even if it could never be.

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**Author's Note:**

So, um, yeah, Natalia's cooking skills—or severe lack thereof—seem to have rubbed off on me as I have unofficially been dubbed the Calamity Chef of the family. Normally, I'm a decent cook—you know, the kind whose food doesn't look perfect but tastes all right—but yesterday, oh man, yesterday I practically charred my breakfast. I could understand if my lunch or dinner turned out charcoal rich, but my breakfast? One of the few things I can normally cook are breakfast foods (and I can bake decently too). Ugh, it was so depressing to see (and taste) how my food came out. Hopefully, though, it was a one time thing and I will soon be back to my normal self.

Lol, but at least the Calamity Chef episode had one good thing about it; I was going to cook dinner yesterday evening as well, but after the morning's escapades, I decided against it and sat down to write instead.

So, I guess that, in the end, every cloud has a silver lining, and, in the spirit of this note, I have some (slightly) bad and some (very) good news for you all.

I won't be able to update at all this week (except for this chapter of course). My classes have officially swamped me with work (that evil term paper, a midterm exam, and two other seven-page papers all in one week). But, on the bright side however, next week is my spring break, so I will be able to write again next week, and, though I can't promise anything, I will try to get back to my Monday/ Thursday update schedule again, cause I hate breaking it.

Anyways, sorry about the ridiculously long author's note. Thanks for your continued patience and support of the fic! Until next time!


	15. Preparation

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your kind reviews and your support.

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Natalia trailed her fingers over the smooth silk of one of the gowns hanging in the armoire. No. That one didn't suit her either.

She removed the plainest looking gown from its hanger and, holding it in front of her, stepped to the full length mirror to check her appearance. The blue fabric still seemed too bright for her mood, but this dress, after all, was the closest thing she had to black.

Sighing, she laid the dress out on the bed and, sitting down beside it, began to pick out jewelry. Truly, she did not even feel like attending the dances, but, after coming all this way, it would be irresponsible—not to mention shameful.

She picked up a flower shaped earing, staring not at the sapphire teardrop that dangled from the fragile gold shape, but past it to a distance garden that sparkled in the starlight, to—

She quickly derailed that trail of thought, letting the earring fall from her hand back into her jewelry box where it clattered softly among the other jewels.

Why had he sent her away? Hadn't he seen that she had wanted to stay? That she hadn't wanted to remember her duty to her people, that she had only wanted to stay by his side?

But really—she thought with a pang—it had been her fault. She had been a fool of epic proportions to bring up her duty, but it had been an unconcious response. He had been so honest in his feelings that she simply couldn't bring herself to lie to him. He deserved no less than the truth of _all_ her feelings. There was no way she could tell him that she loved only him, no matter how much she did love him.

Really, though, she had hoped he would understand what it was she was saying—that it wasn't that she was using her duty as an excuse to push him away, but that she had wanted him to share that duty with her.

It had been one thing to say that she loved him; it was another matter entirely to say just how much—to say that she wanted him to share that duty with her. From the chatter she had heard among the maids at the palace, she had always assumed that the quickest way to scare away an interested man was to start talking about marriage on what amounted to the first date.

All her recent focus on marriage, however, led to that being the only though in her mind at the moment. She couldn't help feeling terrible for thinking so far ahead in a relationship. She had almost let it slip when they had talked in the garden, when he had held her, when she had thought that she could get used to that…

She picked up a different earring and admired it against the light.

Where was he today? She hadn't seen him around the castle all day. The first party was tonight. Hadn't he said he would be on "guard duty"? Shouldn't he be at the castle then?

She had walked around most of the day, hoping to see him. It was only now, about two hours before the party was scheduled to begin, that she had actually returned to her room to prepare. She had briefly entertained the idea of not going, and then…. She shook her her. This was getting her nowhere; she was going around in circles again. She wanted to take a nice long bath before getting dressed, so she chose the first pair of earrings she had looked at, quickly finding the matching bracelets and rings. She forgo the matching necklace and wear the Maestro Stone pendant instead since she had grown so accustomed to wearing it.

Maybe she should wear something nicer. If she could sneak away during the dance, she might get to see him. She went back to the armoire and picked out a strapless teal gown with a soft flowing skirt. After a moment's thought, she pulled out a thin, bejeweled shawl as well.

Maybe, tonight, she would get to talk with him under the stars once again.

She laughed grimly to herself. She could only hope that tonight's party would be that good.

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Soft music drifted through the air, mingling with the scents of lucious foods and the laughter and conversation of fellow partygoers. Natalia leaned against a pillar in the corner of the room as she watched the dancers on the dance floor twirl in neat, prescribed circles according to the music.

She idly swirled the wine in her glass, watching as the liquid sloshed against the sides, trying to see how high she could let he liquid go without it spilling over the rim. As she looked down into the glass, she noticed her masked reflection as well as another one over her shoulder.

"Are you not going to dance, Princess?"

She turned slightly to look back over her shoulder. "Jade," she said as she turned back to her drink.

He made a strange sound that she could only assume was a laugh of some sort. "I believe," he stated matter-of-factly, "that the question demands a 'yes' or 'no' answer, Princess."

"Stop calling me that," she muttered, her normally sharp tongue a little dulled by the wine.

"And what would you have me call you?" he teased. "Empress?"

She glared at him now, but her feathery swan mask dulled the effect. "Don't even start with me."

He stepped in front of her now. "My, my, I wouldn't dream of it," he drawled.

For the first time, she looked up at him. He looked shockingly handsome in his long black coat with his hair tied back from his face with a black ribbon.

She squinted as she studied his face. Maybe it was the wine, but there seemed to be something different about his face. "Why aren't you wearing a mask, Colonel? Last time I checked, this was a masquerade." She squinted and leaned forward again; her vision seemed strange for some reason. It must be the mask. "For that matter," she continued, "why aren't you wearing your glasses?"

He bent at the waist, leaning forward until she had to back off. "I'm not wearing my glasses because I've replaced them with tiny lenses that I place directly on the surface of my eyes, and I'm not wearing a mask because I don't feel like wearing one. Besides, a mask would interfere with my duties."

His statement was innocent enough. Well, at least as innocent as any remark coming from the Colonel could be, but she was feeling strangely brave and confrontational.

"And, would your duties have something to do with harrassing young Kimlascan princesses?"

He seemed to ignore her remark. "Not specifically," he said, "but they have to do with guarding a certain carefree Emperor as well as a certain drunk Princess."

"I'm not drunk," she protested.

"Well," he mused, thoughtfully tapping his chin with a graceful, gloved finger, "you've been standing—or should I say 'leaning'—in the same corner for the past three hours, and each time I've looked over at you, you've had a glass of wine in you hand. And, judging from your slightly…erratic…behavior and the color of your face, it is no stretch to assume that you are…inebriated."

"For your information, Colonel, I've been holding the same glass the whole time."

"Have you now?" he smirked. "That's such a shame. Things would have been much more interesting if you _had_ been intoxicated."

She raised a suspicious eyebrow. "_What_ things?"

"Oh, nothing, just your introduction to the Emperor."

The eyebrow ascended even further. "So he actually decided to show up now, did he?"

Jade "tut"ted disapprovingly. "Now, now, Princess, that's not very kind. You know that His Majesty is still recovering from an illness."

"If he's so _ill_ then why didn't he simply cancel the party tonight?" Or all three nights for that matter.

Jade shrugged and gestured to the crowded dance floor where couples now milled about during a break in the music. "I suppose that he did not wish to disappoint all the visiting dignitaries, Your Highness."

"Well, I'm disappointed," she muttered.

"Oh, did you want to see His Majesty that badly?"

She glared at him from behind the mask.

"Or," he continued, "were you looking for someone else? An old friend, perhaps?"

She quickly snapped her attention back to her wineglass. "Perhaps."

She took a gulp of wine to keep from having to say anything further. The liquid stung her throat slightly on its way down and settled warmly in her stomach.

A long silence stretched between them. As she swirled the wine again, she reflected that they had never talked much during their travels. If they had, however, she had always imagined it to turn out something like this—complete with short, choppy sentences and long, awkward pauses.

At last, Jade shrugged and sighed, "I suppose I must admit at last."

"What?" she asked, suspicious.

"That—alas—I am terrible at making small talk."

She stifled a chuckle. "Colonel, I think that anyone who knows you would know that."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't change the fact that I am still terrible at it."

"No it does not," she laughed to her drink.

He cleared his throat. "Then I suppose I will get to the point."

"Please do."

"The Emperor wishes to meet with you."

He had said he would get to the point, but she really hadn't expected him to be _that_ blunt.

"Right now?" she squeaked.

Jade turned and briefly glanced over his shoulder. "Whenever he gets here."

"Oh," she said, unable to contain her sigh of relief.

When she looked up, she noticed—with a start—that Jade had turned back to face her and had raised a critical eyebrow. "Is something wrong, Princess?"

She backed away, a little startled.

"No...I'm—"

"PRINCESS!"

A loud yell rumbled through the entire hall, momentarily drowning out the music—which was amazing considering the side of the room and the volume of the music.

Jade and Natalia turned instinctively towards the direction of the sound—no, not sound—deafening roar was more like it—just in time to avoid being bowled over by a large, rather rotund shadow and the body that accompanied it.

"Princess!" exclaimed the voice again.

Natalia forced herself to blink. She had been staring so hard that her eyes had gone dry. That—stout—form, that nose reddened by drinking, that already receding hairline. Oh no. It couldn't be.

Alpine's son, Walter.

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**Author's Note:**

This part turned didn't turn out as well as I would have liked it to. And this time, there's no excuse for the lateness either, other than I got caught up in spring break stuff. I apologize for the lateness and the wierdness of this chapter. I'll do my best to make the next chapter better, though, unfortunately, I can't guarantee when exactly it will be out, though it should be some time next week. See you next chapter.


	16. Intervention

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all for your reviews! They were so inspiring! I worked extra hard on this part just for all of you guys!

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Natalia nearly dropped her glass. That, she reflected briefly, would have been bad, but still, nothing could be worse than this. Curious partygoers were already gathering around them to see what was transpiring and the music had ground to a halt mid-stanza at Walter's sudden shout.

The object of her consternation, however, seemed to be blissfully unaware of all the attention he was attracting.

"Princess!" he continued with an ostentatious bow that nearly flattened some unfortunate bystander, "it is _such_ a pleasure. To tell the truth, I did not expect to see you."

She hated to admit it, but she had not expected to see him either. In fact, she had forgotten entirely that he would be here, so caught up was she in her own thoughts. But still, she should have expected this. After all, wasn't the rule of the world: if something could go wrong it would?

She pasted her specially-reserved-for-diplomatic-events smile on her face and turned to address Walter. "It is…a pleasure to see you as well." She had to force herself to not only say the words but to maintain a pleasant tone as well.

Social niceties were never something that she liked, but she disliked them even more in this situaiton. Undoubtedly, he would misinterpret her politeness for interest, and _that_ could only lead to another hour or so of unbearable conversation during which he would undoubtedly ask her to dance. And of course, she would feel terrible for refusing no matter how much she wished to, so she would end up dancing with him. _That_ of course would lead to a whole _other_ series of misunderstandings that she most _certainly_ did not wish to think about now.

For a moment, he did not respond, and she dared to hope that he would leave without incident. Her luck, however, was not to be that good.

Instead of him turning away and leaving as she desperately wished him to, he responded with a fawning, "Oh, Princess!" and, taking her hand which a moment ago had hung limply by her side, placed a kiss on her knuckles.

She tried not to flinch. She tried not to toss her wine in his face. She tried not to want to beat him to a bloody pulp with her own two hands. Instead, she focused on wishing that, like Jade and Anise or even Tear, she could cast offensive fonic artes rather than just healing spells and status altering spells.

In the midst of her attempt to figure out how to cast something resembling Thunder Blade or Holy Lance, spells whose incantations both contained rather lovely lines about "running enemies through", she dimly noticed that someone else had laid a hand on her shoulder. In her current state, she could not think who it would be. It certainly could not be Guy. After all, he wasn't here, was he? He wasn't here when she both needed and wanted him to be.

"Oh my," drawled a smooth voice, "and who might you be?"

The sudden speech startled her back to full awareness, and she turned suddenly to see who was standing beside her. To her surprise, it was Jade who stood beside her, his hand resting heavily on her shoulder, giving Walter a rather displeased glare.

The moment seemed surreal somehow. Here was Jade, defending her? Not only that, but seeming sincere about it? As she tried to figure out how "sincere" and "Jade" went together, she failed to notice that her glass had slipped from her hand.

In a movement so quick and so precise that she doubted even the onlookers had seen it, Jade reached forward with his free hand and caught the glass without even spilling a drop of the wine before turning to her and saying, "You should be more careful, Princess," as his gaze jumped briefly from her face to the wine glass then up to Alpine's son.

Something in his words and gaze caused a chill to ripple across her shoulder blades, and she unconciously freed her hand from Walter's to pull her shawl closer around her. Briefly, she was reminded of that day in Sheridan when Jade had taken off his glasses and, for the briefest of moments, she had thought him handsome.

Maybe he had to be lying about wearing contact lenses, and this was a side effect of his fonic sight. Come to think of it, what did Fonic Sight do anyway? She realized she hadn't a clue, but, it probably had something to why a smile was now tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Whispered rippled through the crowd—something about a love triangle. Immediately words of denial sprang to her lips, but the calculating part of her mind reigned in the impulse. She dared a glance over at Walter who was simmering quite nicely at the crowd's words and decided that she would play along despite how ludicrous the idea seemed to her.

She turned to Jade and placed a matching hand on his shoulder, shooting him a desperate glance and hoping he would understand. For a moment, he seemed confused, but quickly relaxed, slipping flawlessly into his role.

He turned his attention to her, and she felt her insides knot up at the smile he gave her. She knew she was blushing and that it was thoroughly foolish for her to be doing so, especially since she knew what he was really like, but still, she couldn't help it. Some part of her seethed at the thought that he could manipulate her like this, but the rest of her was overjoyed at the reaction that it was drawing from Walter.

If he was simmering before, he was at full boil now. For some reason, however, he hadn't left yet. She would, unfortunately, have to push things a little farther. Truly, she felt a little cruel for first deceiving him and then dismissing him like this, but, if she didn't get rid of him now, he would likely be following her around all three nights. And _that_ was something she definitely didn't want.

"Princess," began Walter in a strained voice, "who, might I ask is that?"

Ah. There it was. That same demanding tone of voice that she so hated in his father. Quickly, she banished all sympathetic thoughts for the man and opened her mouth to respond when Jade cut her off.

"I believe that _I_ should be asking _that_ question," he challenged, narrowing his eyes and drawing himself up to his full, formidable height.

Walter puffed his chest out and tried to look brave. Jade, however, remained unruffled as always. Not that Jade would be affected by something as meaningless as this. After all, the man had stared death in the face hundreds, if not thousands of times and had remained unmoved. The only time that his mask had slipped was when they had first encountered Nebilim. For a moment, she had witnessed a myriad of emotions pass over the man's face before the mask was replaced and he was his normal, calm self.

Seriously, she doubted if they would have survived the battle if not for him. When someone like her would have become distressed over a sudden bad turn in the battle or become overwhelmed by the task of keeping her friends alive and well in the face of Nebilim's sheer might, he had remained a pillar of strength and calm for the group. When even Tear had said that they could not win, he alone had refused to retreat and had started casting another fonic arte as though he had not heard her. For every hit he took, he delivered the damage back tenfold, as though the very pain that would have crippled others gave him strength. He had refused to relent—refused to yield even one inch to the monster who bore the face of woman he had once respected more than any other in the world.

His conviction to see that fight through had given the rest of them incalculable strength, and in the end, they had stood by his side, refusing to abandon their comrade—their friend. They found the strength to persevere, just as he had, and together, they had triumphed—the finishing blow delivered by none other than Jade himself.

As the dazzling light of Mystic Cage faded, Jade had quickly invoked the Planetary Fonic Arte before Nebilim could resume her onslaught. Later, in Keterbrug, when the group was celebrating their skin-of-the-teeth victory, he had silently disappeared into the snowy town—to see his sister, everyone presumed. But he had never shared in the praise dsitributed amongst the group, even though, to tell the truth, he had deserved praise more than any of them. Even after that, he had never allowed any of them—not even Anise—to praise him for his strength and conviction in that battle. Instead, he deflected all attempts with a sacrasm that was more biting than usual.

Because of that and the worry that praising him after any other battle would only inflate his ego more, she had never told him that she had admired him. Instead, she had kept it in her pocket, as one would blackmail, so that if another, suitable occasion arose, she could offer her praise then instead.

But, in the time since that battle, there had not been another such occasion, excepting the final battle with Van, and, afterwards, everyone had been so busy, attending to their duties not only as emmissaries between countries but as activists for the rights of replicas—at Luke's specific request of course.

Needless to say, she had lost contact with everyone for a time, and when things had finally calmed down enough for letter-writing, she had found that the Colonel had returned to his usual self. The one letter he had written had irritated her so that she had, as usual, buried away all sympathetic feelings and written back an equally sarcastic letter.

They had not talked at all since then, and she had assumed that he had gone back to being indifferent towards everyone but the Emperor and his sister as before. But, maybe she had been wrong. He was here helping her, after all, even though she had done nothing to deserve his help.

Briefly, her thoughts drifted back to Guy, but she quickly pushed him out of her mind. Now was not the time to be dwelling on such things. She could not think of him here, not now. She shoved the thought away again, locking it behind a mental barrier so she could deal with it later, at a more appropriate time, in a more appropriate place.

It was not the same thing. After all, Jade probably had ulterior motives for being so nice—like matching her up with the Emperor.

She tried to focus on what Walter was saying, hoping it would, at least irritate her suitably if not distract her entirely.

"I asked first!" he insisted in a rather childish tone.

She had half a mind to berate him for embarassing Kimlascan nobility in such a way but thought better of it. After all, there was still a chance that some of the people in the crowd did not know who he was, and it would be best if it could remain that way. After all, it meant less damage control for her later.

Beside her, Jade sighed dramatically and reached up to the bridge of his nose, electing to cover his face with his hand when he realized that his glasses were not there. He shook his head slowly and made a loud—but not obnoxious—disapproving sound.

"Very well then," he said, "I am Colonel Jade Curtiss of the Third Division Malkuth Imperial Forces."

More whispers percolated through the crowd, including a few of surprise.

Jade leaned forward and, in a low, almost threatening voice added quietly, "But you might know me better as Jade the Necromancer." He punctuated his statement with an eeriely pleasant smile.

Walter paled several shades and took an unconcious step backwards as more murmuring traced through the crowd.

"Y—you mean…!" he stammered, "th—that you…!"

Jade sighed again. "Why is everyone so surprised by that?"

"Maybe because it's not the kind of thing they hear every day?" she suggested, hiding her words behind a smile. "Or maybe you just really, really scare them?"

He let out a low, throaty chuckle. "Well, if that's the case, then I take their reaction as a compliment."

"Of course you would."

"Of course I would," he echoed.

She looked at him, confused for a moment by his good-humored response, until she realized that he was not looking at her. In fact, he was no longer even standing beside her and had, instead, chosen to advance rather menacingly on Alpine's son who was now taking his rather graceless leave of the party. In other words, he was running like a horde of Fiendlins was on his tail.

She let out a sigh of relief when she was certain that the crowd, which had already begun to drift away, would not hear. After a long moment, he turned back to her and extended his hand, bowing far more gracefully than Alpine's son had, asking her if she would like to dance.

Though she could not explicitly remember agreeing, she was certain that she must have because moments later they were on the dance floor keeping time to a waltz. She blinked a couple times and looked around at the various couples surrounding them. Most of the glances she received, oddly enough, were from women. A few seemed fearful, likely because they were wondering why she was currently dancing with someone who was rumored to be so dangerous, but more were the sharp stares of jealousy. Several of those women looked like they could kill, but she was certain she was more than a match for them.

"How are you feeling?" he asked suddenly.

She snapped her eyes back to him, an unwelcome blush spreading across her face when she noticed that he was again regarding her with a curious smile.

"Like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher," she muttered, displeased,

To her surprise, his expression turned momentarily serious, before his diplomatic smile reappeared on his face. "Well," he mused, "that's an interesting way of putting things, but, I suppose I must warn you that I am notorious for breaking hearts."

"Among other things," she jibed, thinking of how he fought in battle.

" I suppose you're right about that," he said as they slowed to a stop, waiting for the next song to begin.

In the brief interlude, she turned to him and asked, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

He arched an eyebrow and considered her for a moment before asking, "And why are you being so abrupt?"

"I'm being serious," she said.

"No," he countered, "you're being abrupt. That comment didn't logically flow from the previous one you made. Thus, your statement was abrupt. A complete _non sequitur_ if you ask me."

She scowled. "I wasn't asking you."

The music started up again—another waltz. She was grateful, at least, that Jade had to lead so she could focus on arguing with him.

"I'm waiting for an answer," she reminded him after a few minutes.

He looked surprised. "I thought you weren't asking me."

"I wasn't," she said, "at least not about _non sequiturs_ anyway. I was asking you why—"

"Why I was being so nice to you?"

"Yes."

He remained silent for a moment, then said, "Is there something wrong with my being nice?"

She pulled back, a little surprised. "No," she admitted at last, "but, it's just a bit strange for you, I suppose."

The eyebrow went up again, but he said nothing.

"Look," she said after a moment, "we've never been the best of friends…."

"Really? I never knew we were friends at all," he said.

Normally, the words would have dripped with sarcasm, but this time, he sounded genuinely curious. She, meanwhile, was genuinely furious.

"Of course we are!" she said a bit more loudly than she would have liked, "after all we've been through alongside Luke and the others, I would think we would be!"

"Do you really think shared experience means that much?"

The question startled her. "What do you mean?"

He sighed again. "I wish Guy were here."

An untimely blush flooded her face at the sudden mention of the Count's name. "W-why?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Jade considered her for a moment before answering, "Because then I wouldn't have to explain everything myself."

"Oh," she said, disappointment tinging her tone.

Jade remained ominously silent for a moment.

"Well, aren't you going to explain?" she asked at last.

He hesitated. "Shared experience—well, how should I put this? Shared experience alone does not determine one's relationship. Having a shared experience does not mean that you will automatically be comfortable expressing things around your comrade or that you know that person completely, nor does not having shared experience mean that you'd always be uncomfortable around a person—that you you could never get to know them. Shared experience just tends to—help things along.

"Think about it. You and I have fought together, yet I daresay that you do not know me as well as might know Tear or Guy, perhaps."

Her face flushed again, and she looked away involuntarily.

"Is this…about the Emperor?" she asked, hoping it would distract Jade.

"Perhaps," he said vaguely, "or perhaps not. I was just making a general statement—only saying that having such a shared experience—no matter how profound—does not mean that everything will work out from the beginning. Sometimes, you will have to fight, to push, to cross boundaries that you think you cannot cross. Do not surrender at the first signs of defeat. That should be a lesson you learned long ago."

As he drifted off into silence, and she found herself smiling again.

"Did I say something amusing, Your Highness?" he asked after a moment.

She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head slowly. "You were being nice again," she teased.

He mock gasped. "Was I? Oh my, that is a habit I must stop at once!"

"I suppose so," she laughed, "or you just wouldn't be yourself."

"And I certainly wouldn't want that. I must distinguish myself from the Lukes and Guys of this world."

She let his words drift away and tried to immerse herself in the music—tried to forget that he had ever mentioned the Count when suddenly the music stopped and a figure clad in rather flamboyant robes and wearing a rappig mask stepped into the hall.

The knot that had been turning in her gut all night tightened in a sudden spasm.

As if the strange clothes and the…bizzare mask weren't enough to tell, a rappig wandered into the room behind him. He shooed it with a gesture usually reserved for redirecting a wayward child, all the while saying in an unnecessarily loud voice, "Oh no, my darling, cute Jade! Don't follow me in here! Go back to your room now, you hear me?"

All eyes in the room were suddenly focused upon the Colonel who had paled visibly. A few of the ladies were giggling behind their fans or their hands while the majority of the men in the room seemed content to look vaguely amused. Even Natalia had to stifle a giggle. After all, it wasn't every day you heard the words "Jade" and "cute" in the same sentence even if it was said of a rappig.

Jade cleared his throat rather loudly, effectively silencing the room, and cut quickly through the crowd to where the Emperor stood, giving a maid directions as to where to take the rappig. Natalia followed him at a short distance.

"Now make sure to take my oh-so-cute Jade straight back to the room, you hear?" he told the maid who was stifling giggles since she had noticed that a very irate Jade was quickly advancing on a very unaware Emperor. "Make sure he doesn't get lost, okay, because only Lorelei knows what I would do without my cute, little Jade."

The maid bowed to the Emperor and quickly led the rappig away before bursting into a fit of laughter somewhere down the hall. The Emperor peered down the hallway, seemingly unaware of the terror than was about to befall him.

"Your Majesty," Jade began icily, "it is a pleasure that you could join us tonight."

The Emperor spun around quickly, looking as frightened as a man in a rappig mask and fur lined cape could, and raised his hands in mock defense. "Oh my," he said quickly, "what a pleasure to see _you_, non-cute Jade. You're certainly looking…ah, non-cute this evening." He gave an uncharacteristically nervous laugh.

"Why thank you, Your Majesty," Jade continued, his tone still glacial, "now if you don't mind, I'm certain your guests would like to speak with you. It would be a pity if you…lost…your voice because of all that yelling, now wouldn't it?" He punctuated his sentence with another of his trademark smiles.

"O-of course," the Emperor agreed quickly. "A real tragedy that would be. A real tragedy." He laughed nervously.

"Well," Jade said smugly, "I'm glad you think so, your Majesty. Now," he said, raising his voice several levels, "everyone. It is my pleasure to introduce your host, His Majesty, Emperor Peony the Ninth of the Malkuth Empire."

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**Author's Note:**

So, yeah, I had so much fun writing this part, especially since it was so Jade-centric. In case you couldn't tell, I really adore him! He was so awesome in both my fights against Nebilim. The first time I fought her wasn't so bad; I fought her at level 86 on Hard Mode. Jade ruled there! I don't know if he's the only one who can deal the final blow, but both times he did. The first time he killed her with Thunder Blade, and the second time with Mystic Cage.

Man, the second time I fought her was torture cause I didn't know that the max level was 200, so I fought Nebilim on Very Hard mode at level 86! It took me an hour and half and nearly all my items (including all my Treats and Specifics –cries-) to kill her. But in the end, it was so awesome! It was so hard to keep my team (Tear, Natalia, Jade, and Luke) alive, but somehow I managed, and then at the end Jade used Mystic Cage and finished her!

I mean, it's one thing to beat her, and another thing to beat her with a Mystic Arte, but it was so completely awesome to have Jade beat her with his Mystic Arte (especially after an hour and a half of fighting lol!).

Ah man, now I'm just feeling so fangirly for Jade that I'm almost tempted to write some sort of fanfic for him. I don't know what to write for him though.

Oh, and I know that in this part it seemed like I was shipping Natalia with him, but don't worry, I'm not. I just wanted to write something other than animosity between the two characters. That's all. I'm not shipping them, I swear! Well, at least not here anyway. It's a tempting idea to write based on how this part went. –ducks away from hurled objects- Well, I'll only write it if I have time.

Anyways, until next time!


	17. Evasion

**And the Clock Struck Twelve **

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind support and for your patience and all your kind reviews!

**Author's Note 2**: I've been having difficulty uploading to this site lately, and I have no idea why. If more than two or three weeks go by without an update to this fic, please check my profile for announcements. If this problem persists, I may have to move this story to a personal site.

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Almost immediately, a large group crowded around the Emperor, forcing Natalia back towards the dance floor in order to avoid being trampled. She stumbled backwards rather ungracefully as the mob rushed forward, nearly toppling her over in the process. She managed to regain her balance, but, for a moment, she had balanced rather awkwardly on the thin, precarious heel of her stilletto. It had wobbled ominously, and she had feared that it would break. To her dismay, however, it chose to remain intact. If it had broken, at least she would have had an excuse to leave.

A loud exclamation from somewhere within the crowd drew her attention away from her shoe and the vague escape plan that was forming in her head back towards the front of the room.

Her heart stopped abruptly in her chest. The roar of the crowd disappeared into silence. The Emperor who, a moment ago, had been talking animatedly with some noble or another had not only fallen silent but was now making his way through the crowd towards her. She turned around, hoping that he was looking at someone behind her, but she stood alone and slightly dazed in the middle of the hall.

He waved the crowd aside as he approached her, and, to her surprise, they moved aside without question or hesitation. As he approached, her mind screamed. She wanted to look away from him, but something she could not identify kept her rooted to her spot and made her unable to look away.

It was the mask. It had to be the mask. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself. But as he neared her, she saw something in the eyes behind the mask that held her so. What it was, she did not dare think, but her heart which had stopped mere moments ago, had begun to throb painfully in her ribcage.

Inwardly, she cringed. Was she really that fickle that she would feel anything so strongly for a man she had been so determined to hate?

As he advanced, he kept his eyes, so vibrant and blue, locked on hers. Hate was most certainly too strong a word. It wasn't that she had anything against the Emperor as a person. In fact, for the ruler of what had been her country's enemy for many, many years, she found him surprisingly agreeable. To her shock, however, right now, she found him far more than agreeable—an after effect of the wine, she supposed.

Truthfully, she'd only had a few sips of the wine. Maybe she simply didn't hold her liquor as well as she had thought. When was the last time she had drunk alcohol anyway? She couldn't remember.

"Your Highness," he called to her, "It is a pleasure to see you."

To her surprise, there was none of the usual informality in his air as she would have expected from him considering their past meetings. He was graceful and well-mannered, even as he turned aside the attentions of some of the more persistent guests.

When he reached her, he took hold of her hand and raised it to his lips, just as Alpine's son had done before. This time, however, she felt none of the disgust—the sheer revulsion—that she had felt at the other man's greeting. If anything, she felt…comfortable.

In the back of her mind, she knew that she should have at least been worried. She could not understand why she was not. This man should have represented everything ominous and unwanted—not because he was from Malkuth and she from Kimlasca, but rather because he was the insurmountable obstacle that stood between her and the person that she…

But no. That was not fair to the Emperor. He had nothing to do with her current dilemma. He was an outside factor that, had she not been too afraid to make a decision, would not have presented too much of a problem.

As she curtsied and greeted him in the pre-programmed manner of formal dialogue—a task that did not require too much attention after her many years of formal gatherings and greeting various dignitaries—her mind drifted back to the couple days prior. With a twinge, she realized that, for all that time, whenever she had reached a point where she had to make a choice, she had hidden behind her unconfirmed duty to the Emperor. And when even that had fallen away, she had hidden behind her duty to her people.

She had claimed it was "duty" when it really was "cowardice".

A quiet sigh escaped her.

"Are you well, Princess?"

She snapped her eyes back to the Emperor's face, momentarily startled when her gaze met the mask rather than his eyes. Come to think of it….that thing was rather ugly. For that matter, the rappigs weren't all that pleasant either, but _that_ was a subject better left alone for now.

"I am fine, Your Majesty," she managed to say after an awkward pause. "It has been a tiring day."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Ah yes, I suppose it has." He smiled at her, and, to her dismay, her heart did a somersault in her chest. "After all that preening earlier, I can see why would would be tired."

She arched a delicate eyebrow. " 'Preening', Your Majesty? I've done no such thing for _this_ particular occasion."

"Really?" he asked as he leaned forward, the tips of his long hair brushing against her cheek, "Then you must naturally look fabulous."

She drew in a sharp breath, took an involuntary step backwards and tried to make her heart stop flip-flopping awkwardly in her chest. She frowned to herself, at the traitorous organ's actions.

"Did I offend you, Princess?" asked the Emperor, taking a step back.

Her face, already flushed from his previous flattery, turned several shades darker. "N-no, Your Majesty, not at all! If anything," she added, turning away, "I must thank you for the compliment. It was hardly deserved."

She jumped slightly when he brushed his gloved fingertips along her cheek before gently turning her head back to face him.

"You should have more faith in yourself, Princess." He trailed his thumb along the curve of her chin. "The compliment hardly did you justice."

Her heart did that awkward flip-flopping thing again, and she silently chided it. Why was he having this effect on her? How could she allow him to have this effect on her? Why was his voice, which she always remembered to be deep, and slightly rougish, suddenly sounding more and more like velvet.

"Are you all right, Your Majesty?" she asked, hoping to preempt any other _compliments_ that might be headed her way.

He tilted his head to look down at her. Again, she felt herself being swallowed in those eyes of endless blue.

"Yes. I am well," he said at last. "Why do you ask, Princess?"

She shook herself free of his gaze. "It's just that, your voice…it sounds…strange somehow."

He remained still for a long moment. "Strange?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

An embarassed blush crept up to her cheeks, and she valiantly fought the urge to look away. "I didn't mean it like that, Your Majesty. I was just wondering if you have fully recovered from your cold."

His posture relaxed visibly. "Ah. That's all. Well, Princess, I thank you for asking, but, no, I have not fully recovered yet. But don't worry," he added quickly, "I'll be fine in a couple of days."

"Oh, that's good," she said, uncertain of how to proceed.

"But," he continued, extending a hand to her, "I am well enough to dance, and, I would be honored if you would join me."

The knot in her stomach tightened again, and, for a moment, she wanted to refuse, no matter how rude it would seem. But, as she looked up at him, his eyes caught hers again, and the chatter and music of the ballroom seemed to fade away into a numb silence.

Briefly, her mind drifted back to the previous evening when she stood in the starlit garden in Carmina Gaedelica when she had felt as though the world should have stood still.

She shook the thought away. How could she be comparing that moment which had been so right and so perfect to this moment, which she had spent so long dreading? Her heart sank. What would Guy think if he knew that she was comparing him, whom she had professed to care for, to the Emperor? It would likely break his heart.

"Princess?"

The Emperor's voice broke her train of thought, and she tried desperately to remember what he had just asked her.

"Is dancing disagreable to you?" he asked, concern tinging his voice.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. "No," she said quickly, "I would be glad to dance, Your Majesty."

The words were barely out of her mouth before he had swept her onto the dance floor, and they had slipped effortlessly into the proper timing for the music.

She looked up at him, a little surprised by the speed and grace of his movements. He certainly moved much faster than one might expect him to.

"Your Majesty is a talented dancer," she said, to break the silence between them.

He did not respond immediately, and, at first, she thought he had not heard her. But then, to her surprise, he swept her into a low dip that was completely out of place with the mood of the music.

He did not lean her back far enough so that she was uncomfortable, only enough so that she had to rely on him to support her. He leaned closer to her, so that his nose brushed against hers. Her breath hitched in her throat as she found that he was looking at her with those fathomless eyes of his.

"I appreciate the compliment, Princess," he crooned, setting her back on her feet "but there is no need for such formality between us, is there?"

"W-what do you mean?" she asked, unsettled.

"You've been wanting to say something, haven't you?"

She should have stared, looked surprised, anything, but instead, she looked away, knowing that it would confirm his suspicions. After all, it was true. She did have _something_ to say; she just wasn't sure she could say it?

After all, how do you tell some one that, for the sake of your country, you would marry them if asked, but that, as an individual, you would be completely and utterly opposed to the union?

Surely there had to be some more tactful way to say it, but the only way she could think of was to remain silent.

Besides, he hadn't even asked her anything of the sort. Wasn't she, as Guy had said, being somewhat presumptuous? And if she was wrong, it would offend the Emperor even more than it would have if he had asked her.

But she should say something, shouldn't she—set the record straight from the outset? Tell him that she had no particular feelings for him, and that she was here only because of her duty to her country? That _was_ the truth, wasn't it?

But even if it was—a fact of which she was no longer entirely certain—it seemed a far too cruel thing to say.

She tried to convince herself that that was why she could not say it—that she did not wish to hurt him. It was partly true, but it was something else that she could not name that shoved the words deep into the pit of her stomach where they died in a low sound.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice that the song they had been dancing to had ended until she stumbled slightly when they came to a sudden stop.

"Whatever it is, Princess," the Emperor said, his tone serious yet compassionate, "don't worry about it so much."

He smiled at her again and, to her surprise, she found herself smiling back at him.

"There we go," he said, his voice dropping to a low, almost seductive whisper, "a smile suits you much better."

The music started up again, preventing her from making any kind of verbal response. To her dismay, it was a slow song. Before she could protest, the Emperor had pulled her closer and had tightened his grip on her waist, preventing her from stepping back.

"Y-your Majesty!" she exclaimed, startled.

"Yes?" he whispered, his breath tickling her skin.

Her entire body went rigid, her jaw snapping shut with a jarring thud.

Why? Why was she reacting this way? Why was he—of all people—having this effect on her—especially when she claimed to—love—someone else?!

She had never, ever, felt anything for the Emperor before, so why now? Of all times!

It was a mistake. Something was wrong—there had to be! There was no other explanation for this—an explanation for why her heart was pounding the way it was, why when he looked at her with those eyes of his she could not look away, and why when he leaned forward as though he might kiss her, she did not object.

Involuntarily, she relaxed in his arms as his lips met hers. For a moment, she was too stunned to react.

No. No. No! This was wrong—terribly wrong. It shouldn't be like this. Guy's face flashed before her eyes. How could she do this to him?!

But—she realized with a gut-wrenching pang—she had already done worse to him. She had effectively forced him to reveal his feelings. She had selfishly encouraged those feelings, knowing that she could not be with him. Worst of all, she had told him she loved him when she knew that she would likely marry someone else.

Until now, she had not thought what it would be like for him if—no _when_ she married the Emperor. It wouldn't only be that she would be marry someone else but that he would likely see her everyday after she was married. He would have to see her marry the Emperor. He would undoubtedly, at some point, see the Emperor kiss her. In the years that followed, he would hear her children call another man father.

He would have to live with all that, and there would be nothing she could do to ease the pain that she had inflicted. And, if he loved her as much as he claimed to, she could only imagine how truly terrible that pain would be.

The thought of it alone made her blood run cold. He would suffer, and it would be her fault.

Against her will, her shoulders began to shake and hot tears stung her eyes.

It was too late. He was already suffering. She had messed things up from the very beginning.

The Emperor pulled back, sensing her distress and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Princess," he began, apologetic, "I—shouldn't have done such a thing."

She could not respond. The tears that she had tried to repress now spilled freely down her cheeks.

He stepped closer. "Princess, I—"

He reached up to wipe away a tear that had trailed down her her cheek, but she slapped away his hand. Even through the mask she could see his eyes widen in shock—and hurt?

Those eyes, the same color as Guy's, filled with hurt? It was far too much for her to bear.

She turned away, covering her face in her hands. "Please, Your Majesty, just—leave me be."

She stepped away from him, in the direction of the door, when he took hold of her wrist.

"Please, Princess. Just…wait."

"Let me go," she said in as commanding a tone as she could possibly muster.

"Never."

She tensed. The sheer conviction in his voice had startled her. "W-what?"

He stepped closer. " I will never let you go."

It was the sincerity that hurt the most. How could _he_ say—let alone _mean_ something like that? For someone like her?

"Find someone else," she said to the floor. "There are plenty of women here who would be glad to take me place." She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"They've probably been dying to dance with you all night."

He shook his head. "Never."

She flinched. That word again.

He hesitated for a moment, as though debating something, then said in a quiet voice, "I do not wish to dance with anyone but you."

Those words. The same ones _he_ had said.

No. No. No no no!

"STOP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT!"

Before she was aware of what she had done, her hand shot out and connected squarely with the side of his face. The blow, which had caught him off guard, displaced his mask, and he turned away quickly, hiding his face in his hands.

She took off before he could right it, and vanished through the large double doors at the end of the room. The doors slammed shut behind her, cutting her name off into a fractured syllable.

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He watched in despair as she vanished through the doors, and his strangled shout died away into silence. He started after her almost immediately and made it through the door just in time to watch her vanish up the staircase.

He leaned against a nearby wall and buried his face his hands. It was probably best to just leave her be now. It was probably what he should have done in the first place.

Disgust filled him as he looked down at his hands. How could he do such a thing to her—her of all people?! He had sworn that he would not _let_ this happen—that he would give her as much time as she needed to make her decision. How things must look to her—he could only imagine.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. He did not need to look to know who it was.

"On a scale of one to ten," Jade drawled, "I'd rate that performance a negative eight, _Your Majesty_."

"Oh shove it Jade!" he scowled, reaching for mask and pulling it away along with the long, blonde wig he was wearing.

Jade shrugged innocently. "Oh come now," he chided, "is that any way to talk to your oldest friend, _Gailardia_?"

The blond swordsman tossed aside the mask and wig with a furious grunt. "Don't you _dare_, Jade! I _don't_ need this right now!"

"Apparently you do," Jade said, his voice firm. "Because you seem to have forgotten exactly what you're supposed to be doing here."

Guy whirled around, slamming his fist into the wall with such force that he thought his hand would break. "And what exactly am I supposed to be doing?!"

"_Not_ driving the Princess into a hysterical rage," Jade said, seemingly unfazed by the swordsman's temper.

Guy's face fell, and he slumped weakly against the wall.

"You're supposed to court her for His Majesty," Jade continued, "not make her want to kill him."

"I—I can't do this anymore," Guy said quietly after a moment.

"You have to. There's no backing out now."

"I know that. But I can't. "

"You will. That's all there is to it."

"It's not right to be deceiving her like this!"

Jade sighed. "It's not a deception. She believes the Emperor is courting her."

"But _he's_ not!"

"She believes she will marry him."

Guy froze. "And in the end, she will."

"And that," Jade said with a pointed glare, "is all that matters. Right?"

The swordsman could not find voice to speak. Instead, he just nodded mutely.

Jade, seemingly satisfied with Guy's compliance turned on his heel and headed back towards the ballroom. "Good. Now, just remember that you were the one who agreed to do this, and everything should be…fine."

The Colonel's footsteps vanished through the double doors, and, the swordsman found himself alone in the empty, silent hallway.

Fine? Right. Like things could ever be right again. How could he have agreed to such a thing? When the Emperor had approached him and asked him to court the Princess for him, he should have refused. But her words from the previous evening had remained etched in his mind.

Then, she had seemed to think that marrying the Emperor was the best thing for her country, and he could not bring himself to openly disagree. After all, he had made her decision all the more difficult by saying what should never have been said. It was only right that he tried to mitigate the damage done. He had sworn he would help her along no matter how much it hurt him. She shouldn't have to suffer for his mistakes.

This seemed like the perfect way to help her. But again, he failed to account for his own weaknesses. Once again, she was suffering because of his carelessness.

He had sworn to help her. He had sworn not to interfere. But still!

He clenched his throbbing hand tighter, letting the pain wash over him and clear his mind.

"But still," he said to himself. "I can't let her go. Not now. Not like this."

He looked over to the corner where the mask and wig lay in a crumpled mass. Jade was right about one thing: he couldn't back out of his promise to the Emperor. But, that didn't say anything about going _around_ it.

Pulling the gaudy cape from his shoulders, he gathered up the mask and wig and wrapped them all up into a bundle. During the night, he had no choice but to play the role of the Emperor, but, during the day, he could court her himself. If, by the end of the three days he could convince her to refuse the "Emperor's" offer of marriage, then he would ask for her hand himself.

It was a strange and rather roundabout way of doing things. If Anise were to hear of this, she would likely suggest that he just ruin the Emperor's chances of a successful courtship by turning the Princess against him, but, in his mind, she deserved better than that.

He trusted her to make the decision that was best for herself—even if it was not the best one for _him_. He would not take from her that choice no matter how much he worried that she might choose the Emperor over him.

It would be her choice. That was the way things should be. She would make the final decision, but he would do his damndest to show her that he was the better choice. He owed her that.

Glancing out the window, he judged it to be about three hours till sunrise. He had only slightly longer than that to figure out just how to win her back. Really, however, he had little idea of how to do such a thing, but he did know someone who might. _Several_ "someones" in fact. Now. If only they could get here in time.

Luke and Tear would be able to help him, and Anise could probably contact them easily. He needed to get a message to Daath within the day. But how?

He pondered this as he headed towards the docks. A ship would probably be the best option at this point. If the high-speed clipper circled east around the Rugnican continent then headed southeast, passing between Padamiya and Radessia, it could reach Sheridan within half-a-day. But it would take a sizeable amount of Gald to commandeer _that_ ship—especially something as menial as delivering a message, but it would have to be done.

As he ran along the docks to where he had disemarked from the clipper two days ago, a strange vessel caught his eye. It was long, sleek, and far too small to be a ship. It wasn't large enough to be the clipper either. In fact, it seemed far too flat to be a ship. He approached it to try to get a better look, but as he did so, a shout rang out through the still night air.

"Hey! Be careful!"

He turned, surprised at the sudden noise. A woman in a pilot's uniform came running towards him from the direction of the town.

His heart stopped for a moment. This was too good to be true.

"Noelle?" he called cautiously, "is that you?"

She skidded to a halt midstep, pausing momentarily before approaching further. "Guy? Is that you?"

"Oh thank Lorelei! I am _so_ glad to see you!"

She smiled. "It's good to see you too."

"Listen," he said, trying to controlt he frantic edge in his voice, "I hate to ask you this. I mean, you probably have a million other things to be doing right now, but I need your help."

"Anything for an old friend," she said, cheerful, as always. "That's what I told Luke but he kept insisting on paying his passage."

Guy had just about launched into an explanation of his situation, but he halted in the middle of the first word. "Did you say 'Luke'?" he asked, incredulous. "As in Luke fon Fabre?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I just flew him, Tear, and Anise in from Daath this evening. They were supposed to leave this morning—you know, to make here in time for the party—but Anise got held up in a last minute meeting of some sort. We all agreed to wait for her, so we ended up getting here late."

He stared at her blankly for a moment. Had she really just said that Luke, Tear and Anise were here in Grand Chokmah?

"Still, I'll do what I can to help you," she continued. "Just what was it you needed?"

"Noelle," he said at last, "you are a godsend!"

"Really?" she asked, somewhat surprised. "I try my best to be helpful."

"Thanks to you, everything may just work out."

"What may work out?"

He smiled. "I can't say right now, but, tell you what. You don't have to stay here with the Albiore."

She shook her head. "I can't just abandon my ship. It's my pride and joy."

"You don't have to," he smiled proudly. "Just fly over east of the city. My estate's out there. I made sure to design it with a special landing area for the Albiore just in case I could ever get my hands on it." His eyes glazed over momentarily. "Anyway, you can stay at the estate. Just tell whomever greets you that you brough Fontech. They'll understand."

She smiled. "Thanks, I think I'll do that. Just remember, you promised to explain tomorrow."

He nodded, frowning slightly. "Yeah, I have to explain to Luke, Tear, and possibly Anise tomorrow too."

Noelle studied him for a moment. "It's about her," she said at last.

"What?" he asked, a little startled.

"The Princess," she continued. "Remember, you told me after we all reunited in Belkend after the Flightstone was stolen."

He vaguely recalled having spoken to her about something then.

She walked past him and headed for the Albiore. "Anyway, we can talk more tomorrow. I'll be glad to help you. After all," she smiled, "anything for an old friend and knight chasing his princess."

Before he could react, she had climbed into the cockpit and had started up the Albiore. It lifted off and vanished to the east where the last stars of the evening were fading into the dark sky.

Two days. He had only two days. He was not certain it would be enough, but it would have to be. With everyone's help, it just might be enough. He could only hope so.

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**Author's Note:**

This time, I have two announcements. First, the rating of this story might go up in later chapters because of a slightly limish scene that is trying to work its way into the plot. I'm not quite sure if I will include it yet, though. It depends on how the rest of the story goes and if I feel it is really necessary for the plot.

Secondly, I have begun planning an Interlude fic and a Sequel fic for this story. (Even more reason for me to finish this!). The Interlude fic is a little LukexTear short that managed to work its way in. And the sequel…well, for now, that's a secret, well, kinda…

All in all, thanks for your support. See you next chapter!


	18. Morning

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Kyaa! Thank you all so much for all your reviews and support last chapter! It all makes me so happy!

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"Luke. Wake up."

The redhead rolled over onto his side, folded his pillow over his exposed ear, and mumbled something unintelligible into his arm.

The long haired melodist standing by the bed glared at the pillow while deciding whether or not to pull it away.

"Luke," she began in a somewhat dangerous tone, "Wake up. It's nearly noon."

He mumbled something that sounded that sounded suspiciously like her name but did not stir further. Sighing, she reached over and grabbed the pillow. He turned again, trying to keep hold of the pillow. When she pulled it away, he opened his eyes and blinked blearily at her.

"G'mornin Tear," he mumbled.

"Good _afternoon_, you mean."

He rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Afternoon? Really?"

"Yes," she said, punctuating the word with a sharp tone.

"Really?" he mumbled again, the declining volume of his tone indicating that he was, once again, in danger of falling asleep.

She sighed and shook him slightly, trying to wake him.

"Just let me sleep a little longer, Tear," he pleaded, covering his face with his hands, "I haven't slept properly for nearly a week! This is the first time in ages that I've even been able to _leave_ Daath! Anise's been working me to the bone!"

She frowned. "Luke, we're not here on vacation, though, if you really want to sleep that badly, I'm sure I can find enough first fonons to cast Nightmare."

She let her voice trail off ominously. He flinched but did not stir farther.

"I'm getting my staff," she threatened.

He did not move. Her frown deepened.

For a moment, she was uncertain of what to do, but then, a wonderful idea struck her. She moved over and sat down on the edge of the bed. Leaning over, she whispered in his ear, "Luke, if you don't get out of bed right now, I'll bring Anise to wake you up."

The redhead's eyes shot open again, but he made no move to get out of the bed.

Tear continued as though she had not noticed. "And, knowing Anise, she'll bring the Colonel with her."

Luke paled visibly.

"And," she added innocently, "you don't want to be asleep when the Colonel arrives, do you?"

Luke shot out of bed, flinging off the comforter in a dramatic manner, nearly knocking her off the edge. "Okay! Okay! I'm up! Just don't bring them in!"

Tear laughed to herself and, standing, smoothed out the comforter.

"Good," she said, turning to face the redhead, her face reddening when she noticed that he was still in his pajamas, "now—get dressed, and I'll see you downstairs."

He blushed at her stares and, turning away, pulled his usual white coat from the dresser. "Y-yeah," he stammered awkwardly. "I'll be down in a bit."

"O-okay," she said as she slipped past him to the door. He started to say something else, but she had already shut the door.

Outside in the hallway, she hestitated for a moment, hiding her face in her hand and taking a few deep breaths to calm her heart which pounded madly in her chest.

It had been so long since that she had even had such a long conversation with him. She had thought that after his miraculous return from the ruins of Eldrant that they would be inseperable, but, in the end, they were pulled apart by various business. Luke had spent his time travelling between Baticul, Daath, and Yulia City on business for both Kimlasca and the Order of Lorelei, while she had spent most of her time dealing with issues concerning the reconstruction of the Order from Yulia City.

It was strange, she reflected, that although she and Luke worked on such similar things, their paths rarely crossed. If they did see each other, it was usually in a conference or in the few minutes between the meeting and his flight back to Daath, or Baticul, or…wherever he happened to be heading that day.

Truthfully, she wished that they were indeed here on vacation; at least that would give them some time to themselves—something more than just a parting word or a lingering touch. But, as much as she wished to spend some free time with him, she could not let herself be distracted. She was supposed to be the level headed one of the pair after all.

She descended the stairs slowly, distracted by her thoughts.

"Teear," called someone from the bottom of the stairs, "Isn't he up yeet?"

"Yes, Anise," she said, brushing a stray piece of hair from her eyes, "he's awake. He'll be down any minute now."

Anise placed her hands on her hips and gave a dramatic sigh. "It's about time!" she muttered. "I've been waiting for hours!"

"It's only been about twenty minutes," Tear corrected.

Anise pouted slightly. "Twenty minutes, two hours—he's still making me wait!"

"I said earlier that you didn't have to wait for him. You have your own business to attend to, don't you?"

The younger girl pulled a somewhat crumpled letter from somewhere in the folds of her robe. "Yeah, I do, but the Colonel told me that I had to tell _both_ of you about what's going on here!"

"I already know what's 'going on'," muttered Luke, disgruntled, as he emerged at the bottom of the stairs, "after all this time, that idiot girl has decided to marry the Emperor."

"Luke!" Tear snapped, "It's not nice to call Natalia an idiot."

Luke plopped down on one of the couches in the lobby. "Only an idiot would do something _this_ idiotic!"

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" Anise teased, giving the redhead a sly look.

Luke blushed so hard that the color of his face matched his hair. "T-that's—!" He looked away. "That doesn't matter," he said after a moment, "it's just that…I can't imagine why she'd do something like this?"

Tear joined Luke on the sofa. "What I want to know," she said, "is why the Colonel's so certain that she will marry the Emperor."

Anise shrugged. "What can I say? He's the Colonel."

"And he's probably right," Luke agreed. "I'm certain that, given the choice, she would marry the Emperor. I know her well enough to say that at least."

The trio fell silent for a moment.

"This might seem a strange question to ask," Tear began, "but, is there really a problem with her marrying the Emperor?"

Luke stared at her, incredulous."O-of course there is! He's twice her age!"

"Technically, I'm twice your age," the melodist pointed out.

"That's—that's not—!"

"Sooo," Anise asked, a mischevious grin crossing her lips, "are you saying you wouldn't marry Tear just cause she's older than you?"

Luke's face flushed a fine shade of crimson. "M-m-marry? M-me and T-tear?!" he choked out. "N-no way!"

Beside him, Tear stiffened, a frown marring her otherwise beautiful features. She stood abruptly, jolting him slightly.

He turned towards her. "Tear! That's not—!"

She headed for the door. "Forget it, Luke," she said, her tone frigid.

"But, Tear! Wait!" He started for her, but she had already stepped through the door and pulled it shut behind her. For a moment, he stood, frozen, before sinking back weakly onto the chair. He doubled over, hiding his face in his hands.

"I'm…an idiot," he sighed, after a long, silent moment.

"I hate to say it," Anise murmured, "but, yeah, you're right."

The puppeteer watched him for a moment before heading for the door herself.

"A-anise? Where—?"

"To see the Colonel, of course," she beamed.

The redhead seemed bewildered for a moment.

"I would just loove to stay and mope around with you, but we're here for a reason, right?'

"Yeah," he admitted.

"Well then," she smiled, "I suggest that you go and have a talk with Her Royal Highness." She pulled open the door and stepped through it, hesitating momentarily on the threshold. "And who knows," she called, " it just might help you work things out with a certain songstress."

He looked up at her, but she had already shut the door behind her and vanished into the street. He stared at the closed door for a minute, sighed, and pushed himself to his feet. It was no use to sit around and whine now. He'd just apologize to Tear when he saw her next.

"I'll start with what I can do," he said, as he stepped outside. "That's all I can do now." He looked off into the distance where the palace stood prominently against the sky. " And I'll start by having a talk with a certain very foolish princess."

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**Author's Note**:

Ahh, this is the chapter that didn't want to be written. This story has turned out so different from how I had originally planned that I'm a little uncertain of how to write it now. I do have a vague idea though of how the next chapter will be.

Anyway, sorry that this chapter was short and uneventful. I just felt like I needed to get this piece out of the way before proceeding. I'm on summer break now, so the next part should be out relatively soon. Until then!


	19. Family Reunion

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind reviews! I worked extra hard on this chapter just for all of you!

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In the past few years, Luke fon Fabre had embraced many virtues—courage, humility, and self-sacrifice to name a few. Patience, however, was one that still eluded him, especially in moments like these. As he stared down the officious butler who blocked the stairway that led to the castle's guest wing, he found himself more and more willing to damn all protocol to hell and just pummel the man.

"And _who_ did you say you were?" the butler asked again, as though his main pleasure in life came from tormenting seriously frustrated Kimlascan nobility.

"For the _billionth_ time, I'm Luke fon Fabre, son of Duke Fabre!"

The butler tapped his chin in a mockingly thoughtful gesture. "Fabre, Fabre…now why does that name sound familiar…?"

Luke felt his eyebrow twitch, and his hand _involuntarily_ (because that sounded so much better than "intentionally") began to inch towards the hilt of his sword.

"I'm King Ingobert's nephew," the redhead stated in an somewhat strained tone.

The butler, however, did not seem to notice this. "Oh really?" he asked, seemingly unware of the doom that was about to befall him.

"_YES_."

"You're certain?"

Luke's hand twitched again and tried to grab the hilt of the Key. Luckily for the butler, Luke's hand met only air, and the swordsman realized with a frown that he had left the Key in Daath, in the care of Maestro Tritheim—for safekeeping he had assured himself before he had left. Maybe he had had some sort of premonition that had told him to leave his weapon behind. Didn't the seventh fonon have something to do with predicting the future? And if he was made mostly of seventh fonons, maybe then he too could see the future. It was unlikely, but, whatever it was, Luke silently thanked the impulse that had told him not to bring a weapon, because, psychic or not, he could just see the headlines if he had. _Kimlascan noble murders butler in Grand Chokmah Palace_. _That_ would go over oh-so-well with the peace effort.

"If I'm not mistaken," the butler began, drawing Luke's attention away from his dark inner musings and back to reality, "weren't you once affiancéd to the Kimlascan princess?"

Luke could have sworn that his heart had just stopped. For a moment, he went cold as Asch's face passed before his eyes—a face identical to his own. His insides twisted painfully at this unexpected reminder of his deceased Original.

His hand dropped limply to his side. After all these years, he had thought that he could handle being reminded that he had, essentially, stepped into someone else's life—the constant reminder of what his birth had forced Asch to abandon. Asch, the charred remains of the sacred flame—that wasn't right. Asch shouldn't have been forced to call himself that, but, for him, there was no option. His name had been taken by another. At this, Luke shuddered—not just by anyone, but by _him_. Given the situation, the name would have been all that Asch would have had left, but in the end, he didn't even have that. It wasn't right! Asch was not Asch, but Luke, and Luke was not Luke, but…nothing.

A familiar weakness washed over him. "No," he replied in a trembling voice, "that was not me."

"Then you cannot rightly be Luke fon Fabre, son of Duke Fabre."

He grit his teeth, trying his best to keep his expression neutral—to keep the pain that was welling up in his soul from spilling over. "No," he said, "I suppose not."

In the back of his mind, he realized that Tear would have smacked him if she had heard him say that.

Tear…

She had stood by him all this time…through all this. When he had been faced with losing everything he had ever known she had supported him selflessly. She had given his life meaning—had given him a reason to continue living! And after all this…after all she had done for him…how could he have been so thoughtless this morning!

Tear. Without her, he really would be nothing.

"Well then," continued the butler, his tone dripping with smug superiority, "if you are not Luke fon Fabre, I see no reason to let you through."

Luke had heard him, really he had. It was just…his body was taking longer than usual to react to the signals from his brain.

"Go on now! Shoo!" said the butler, making a dismissive gesture. "Don't loiter. Move! There's no place here for trash like—"

"ENOUGH!"

An angered shout echoed down the stairwell. Luke managed to look past the butler to the landing where a certain very stood, glaring rather maliciously at the butler who was now cowering under the weight of her gaze.

A smile of relief tugged at the redhead's lips. Natalia stood on the landing, dressed in her familiar travelling clothes from their journey so long ago, feet planted firmly on the ground, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted back and a glare that might—just might—put Jade to shame. It was an expression that, originally, Luke would have dreaded seeing, but, in this situation, it couldn't be more welcome.

The Princess stalked gracefully down the stairs, stopping directly in front of the butler. Even in her heeled boots, she only reached the man's chin, but somehow she still managed to stare down on him.

She opened her mouth, but for a moment, no sound came out. Luke knew from many years of being on the receiving end of her tirades that this silence was deceptive. He was certain it was calculated to make her target let down it's guard so that her strike would be all the more effective. Some of it probably came from her archery training—wait patiently for the perfect opportunity to strike. Wherever she got it from, it was certainly effective. Instinctively, he braced himself, even though the rant was not directed at him.

"How _dare_ you speak to him like that! How dare you address Luke fon Fabre, nephew to King Ingobert the Sixth of Kimlasca, son of Duke Fabre, and my childhood friend and most beloved cousin in such an…_irreverent_ manner!"

Later, Luke would realize that her lecture to the stunned servant would last for nearly a half an hour; however, he didn't hear the half of it.

She thought of him as her cousin. It was something that, in all the years he had known her, she had never called him. In fact, as far as he could remember, she had never even called Asch that, though, he supposed that calling your fiancee "cousin" would be slightly unnerving. He wanted to ask her about it, but, before he knew it she was dragging him by the arm out of the castle entry hall while threatening to personally report the butler to the Emperor when she next saw him. She didn't stop pulling him along until they had reached the docks. At last, she let go of his arm and turned back to face him.

"I'm sorry," she said after she had caught her breath, " if I'd known you were coming—if I'd come down sooner you wouldn't have had to hear—"

"It's okay," he said, waving her off, "It's all right."

"No, it's not!"

He took a step backwards, a little startled by her intensity.

"You shouldn't have to take things like that!" she continued, her voice pained, "for that matter, you shouldn't put up with people talking to you that way!"

He looked away out over the ocean which lapped quietly against the dock pylons. "But, I'm only a replica…"

She let out a frustrated sigh. "I thought we've been through this before! Weren't you the one to tell me that blood didn't matter, that it couldn't change years worth of shared memories?! After everything we've been through together, how can you still believe that you're _only_ a replica!" She fell silent for a moment, following his gaze out over the water. At last, she turned back to him and said quietly, "Replica or not, I consider you my precious, irreplaceable cousin. I don't know what else I can say—if there's any way I can convince you of your own worth."

He sighed, unable to think of a suitable response.

After a moment, she chuckled quietly. "I guess that Tear would be better at this kind of thing."

He cringed involuntarily at the mention of the meoldist's name. He wasn't certain if she had noticed his reaction. He searched desperately for something to distract her.

"You know how it is," he laughed nervously. "It's just like Guy said. I'm a genius at seeing the silver lining so long as it's somebody else's cloud."

Whether or not she noticed his reaction, he certainly noticed hers. Her entire posture which had been relaxed moments before went ramrod straight, and her hands clenched tightly around the railing she was holding onto.

"I suppose he was right," she said, forcing a smile.

The pair fell silent for a moment.

"So," she said, trying to break the silence, "what brings you to Grand Chokmah?"

"You, actually," he said matter-of-factly.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," he said, his voice picking up both intensity and volume. "I want to know what you're thinking!"

She seemed puzzled. "What I'm…thinking?"

He sighed, frustrated. "Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"That depends on what you say," she said with a smile.

He fixed her with a glare, and, after a moment, her expression changed to mimic his.

"What?" she asked. "Why are you staring like that?"

"Because," he began in an impatient tone, "there's an ugly rumor going around Daath that you're here, not as an emissary of Kimlasca but as a prospective bride for the Emperor!"

She cringed involuntarily. "Is there…something so wrong with that?"

"Yes, there is!"

She folded her arms over her chest defensively. "And just what would be wrong with it, pray tell?"

"He's nearly twice your age for starters!"

She shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "So? This is a political marriage. Age differences are common."

Luke fidgeted, embarassed. "There's just…something so _wrong_ with that."

She looked away again. "It could be worse, I suppose. At least he's a good person."

He hesitated uncertainly. "But…well…you don't love him, right?"

"What makes you think that?"

"The fact that you refused to look at me when you said that."

She did not answer.

"Come on," he sighed, "I know you better than that. If you were really interested in him you wouldn't be out here wandering the city, dressed as though you were going for a trek through the wilderness. In fact, I'd be surprised if he even got a minute to himself." Luke shuddered at memories of her past…_attentiveness_.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she quipped, some of her good humor returning.

He snorted.

"Besides," she continued, "what's wrong with my getting out of the palace every now and again?"

"Nothing, I suppose." He paused for a moment. "Where were you headed anyway?"

Her posture stiffened again. "Nowhere particularly."

He raised an eyebrow. "You were…just going to wander around the town?"

"Not exactly," she admitted.

He scratched his head. "I don't get it. What exactly were you going to do?"

She hesitated for a moment then looked back at him. At last, she admitted, "There's…somewhere I want to go, but…I'm not certain if I will be welcome."

"Why wouldn't you be?" he asked, puzzled.

She bit her lip, stubbornly refusing to answer.

"Does this…have anything to do with the Emperor?" he ventured.

She shook her head. "Not exactly."

He waited for her to elaborate, but she remained silent.

"You know," he said at last, "if you're not going anywhere in particular, I know someplace you should visit. I've only been once or twice, but I know for certain that we'd both be welcome."

"Oh?" she asked, turning her attention back towards him, "where would that be?"

He laughed. "That's a secret."

"I…dislike secrets," she frowned.

A frown briefly crossed his face. "Well, you seem to be keeping enough of your own, so, humor me."

She sighed but did not argue. Instead, she followed him through the city past several large statues and fountains, finally along a long, curving road that led to the outskirts of town.

At the gate, she paused and did not follow him through. He turned back, realizing that she had stopped.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Where…are we going?" she asked, a tinge of panic creeping into her voice.

"I thought we'd agreed that this would be a secret."

She shook her head slowly. "No…I, need to know. Where are we going?"

Luke sighed dramatically. "Fine, if you must know, we're going to visit Guy. He built his manor a few miles east of here…." His voice trailed off when he noticed that she had paled visibly.

"Natalia, what's wrong?" he asked, taking a cautious step towards her.

She seemed not to have heard him. Instead, she only continued shaking her head.

"I…can't go there," she said at last, her voice shaking.

"Why not?" he asked confused.

"I just can't!" she insisted.

"That answer's not good enough!" he said, a bit surprised by the intensity in his voice. "I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong!"

"And what makes you think you can help me?" she burst out.

He took an involutarily step back when he noticed tears brimming in her eyes. "You're crying," he murmured, amazed.

The statement seemed to break her train of thought, and she reached up, rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes. She stared for a moment at the moisture on the back of her hand as though surprised to see it.

" I understand you're upset," he said, trying to sound reassuring, trying to remember what Tear had often said to him when he was upset. "I don't know for certain if I can help, but there's no way to find out if I don't know the problem."

She looked back at him but said nothing.

"Look," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "back at the palace, you called me your cousin, right?"

She nodded mutely.

"If you meant that—if you consider me a member of your family—"

"You _are_ a member of my family," she interjected.

"Then please, trust me enough to tell me what's wrong."

She seemed to study him for a moment.

"I did…something terrible to him," she admitted after a long moment.

He drew back, surprised. "I—didn't know you had seen him recently."

She turned away to stare at the intricate molding of a nearby building. "He escorted me from Baticul to Grand Chokmah under the Emperor's orders."

Luke's heart froze in his chest, as though he knew what she was about to say.

"I-I don't know what came over me," she continued, "I should have known better. It wasn't as though I was engaged to the Emperor, but still, I shouldn't have—"

"What did you do?" Luke asked in a strangled tone.

She glanced towards the ground, a blush painting her cheeks. "I-I…fell in love with him."

She had said the words so quietly that it took Luke a moment to process what she had said. "Wait. What?"

She looked back at him. "I won't say it again," she muttered defiantly, her blush intensifying.

"You mean, that's all?" he asked in disbelief.

"What do you mean, 'that's all'?"

Luke let out a sigh of relief. "From the way you were talking earlier I thought you had done something a lot more…serious, if you know what I mean."

She stared at him for a moment before she understood just what he meant. "N-no!" she exclaimed, her face burning a furious shade of red, "that's not—I wouldn't—not before—" She hid her face in her hands.

Luke walked over to her, smiling. "Well, if that's the case, then I don't see a problem."

She looked up at him, confused. "Of course there's a problem!" she exclaimed.

He blinked a couple times. "What? He wasn't interested?"

Her blush deepened. "He was."

"Then I don't see a problem," Luke said. "You're interested, he's interested, it's good to go!"

She shook her head again. "Of course there is!" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The Emperor…has expressed interest in me."

Luke made a dismissive sound. "So, just refuse him!"

"And risk ruining diplomatic relations between our two countries?" she asked, incredulous.

Luke snorted. "Come on. You know Peony. Do you _really_ think he'll start a war or something just because you turned him down?"

"N-no," she admitted quietly.

Luke grinned. "Good! Now then, you two seem to have misunderstood something, so, let's go see Guy and sort this thing out. What do you say?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Well, things are a little more complicated than you might think."

He shrugged. "They always are, aren't they."

She smiled, genuinely. "I suppose so."

"Then let's go," he said, starting for the gate. Again, she did not follow.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked.

She nodded. "You know," she said as she joined him at the gate. "You've matured so much over these past few years."

He blinked. "Really? You think so?"

She nodded again. "Yes. You are so much more mature than before our travels. It must be thanks to Tear's influence."

Luke flinched at the mention of Tear's name. "Uh, yeah, I guess so."

Natalia tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Speaking of her, where is Tear? I thought that you two would be inseparable."

Luke could not think of a coherent response.

"Luke," she began in a suspicious tone, "did something happen?"

He frowned. "Yeah," he admitted. "I said something stupid and made her mad again."

It was Natalia's turn to laugh. "Well, that's nothing new. Just apologize to her. I'm certain she will forgive you."

He tried to smile. "Yeah, I hope so. It's just…about what I said…"

"What did you say?"

Luke recounted to her what had happened at the inn that morning.

"Well," she said, remembering her own reaction to such an accusation at the inn in Chesedonia, "your reaction was…understandable given the situation. Still, why is it…?"

"Because of this."

Luke reached into a pocket on his coat and pulled out a small silken bag. He opened it and dumped a small golden ring into his palm.

"Now I understand," she said, after a moment.

He put the ring back in the bag and replaced the bag in his pocket. "I swear to Lorelei it was as though Anise read my mind or something!"

"She must have gotten it from Jade," Natalia suggested.

"Probably," he continued in somewhat of a huff. "But, whatever the case, I can't ask Tear now. Not after this. She won't believe me!"

"Just give it some time, Luke," Natalia said. "She'll believe you when the time is right, and I'm certain you will know when the time is right."

"I suppose you're right. I mean, I've waited all this time."

"How long ago did you decide to ask?"

He laughed. "Would it sound corny if I said 'From the moment I met her?'"

"Very," Natalia admitted.

"Truthfully," he continued, "it was a couple of months ago during a conference held in Yulia City. It was the first time I had seen her in a long time. It was just something about seeing her after so long that made me realize how much I missed her.

"The more I thought about it, the more I realized that since my…return from Eldrant, I had seen less and less of her. I mean, I know we both have work to do, but still, I…don't like to be away from her. I just…miss her too much. I worry that she will forget me—move on, you know. I don't know if I'd be able to survive something like that."

Natalia placed a sympathetic hand on her cousin's shoulder. "Luke. If there's one thing I can say for certain, it is that she hasn't moved on. I mean, just think about what happened this morning. She got mad at you."

He tilted his head to one side, confused. "So, she gets mad at me all the time."

Natalia sighed. "You just don't get it, do you, Luke. It means that she probably liked the idea of marriage and was hurt when you denied it like you did."

"You really think so?" he asked, hopeful.

She nodded. "Yes. And good luck, Luke."

He smiled back. "And good luck to you too."

"W-what for?" she asked innocently.

He grinned wickedly. "For working things out with a certain old friend of ours."

The blush crept onto her cheeks again. "T-thanks, I think."

"Come on," he said, beckoning her towards the gate. "Let's get going now."

She nodded. "Let us go to Carmina Gaedelica."

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**Author's Note:**

These past few weeks have been absolutely hectic! First it was finals week, then graduation, then moving to the city where I will be attending Grad School for the next four years. All together, this ads up to a major "Agggh!" response. Lol.

But the worst of it is over now. All that's left is my week-long trip next week before I'm free for the rest of summer.

I've planned out the rest of the fanfic and, if I don't have to split any more chapters (as I had to with this one), it should be about seven more chapters or so.

On a side note, I'm completely obsessed with this new anime series I'm watching called Romeo x Juliet. Kyaa! It's sooo good. If you're looking for something to watch, I highly recommend it. (Okay, enough shameless advertising now.Lol.)

Until next chapter then!


	20. Confession

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay everyone! Chapter 20 is finally here. Thank you all for your support of the previous (and hopefully…future) chapters. Again, thank you all!

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Tear slumped down into a chair at some tiny outdoor café on the outskirts of Grand Chokmah. She was craving something sweet, and, after the fiasco this morning she certainly felt she deserved it.

She waved a nearby waitress over and ordered a strawberry parfait. Extra Large. Flawless figure be damned—for the moment anyway. She'd worry about the consequences tomorrow and maybe add a few more laps to her morning run.

But, she reflected as she ate her first spoonful of the cool, creamy concoction, she couldn't really say that what had happened earlier was entirely Luke's fault. That's just the way he was, right? After all the years she had known him, she should have known better than to expect else of him. Right?

She ate another spoonful. She should have known better than to expect him to say something sweet or romantic along the lines of "Of course I would marry her," or any of the million other things he could have said.

But he had always been like that and probably would always be the same. And though that thought frustrated her to some degree, she couldn't bring herself to be truly angry with Luke himself. As she had told herself each time he did something like this, it's just the way he was. And she loved him, regardless.

She swallowed a few more spoonfuls of the parfait just so the glass was half-full before placing some gald on the table and standing to leave. Just as she was turning to head back in the general direction of the inn, a familiar shout rang out.

"Hey, Tear!"

She turned instinctively towards the familiar voice. "Guy."

And someone was with him. Inwardly, she cringed. Knowing her luck, Luke would be with him. And though she was not, per se, angry with Luke, she certainly did not want to see him at the moment. To her relief, however, the person with him was not Luke but Noelle.

"And Noelle," she amended. "It's good to see both of you. What are you doing out here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said. "But as for your question, I was just showing Noelle around town. What about you?"

Tear glanced away. "Nothing really," she said, "just walking around."

"It's a nice city, isn't it?" Noelle added. "I've passed through here many times, but I've never really stopped to look before."

"Yes," Tear admitted, "the water is quite…soothing."

The group fell silent.

"Is something wrong, Tear?" Guy ventured after several moments of silence.

"N-not really."

He seemed to consider her words for a moment.

"Ah, I get it," he said at last, "something must have happened with Luke."

The melodist flushed all the way to her hairline. She turned away, grateful that she could hide her expression behind her long bangs. "What makes you think that?"

"Oh, a couple things," he mused. "First of all, I know he's here in the city. Secondly, you two haven't seen each other in a while. And thirdly, you two would, normally, be spending all the time you can together. The only reason you wouldn't be was if you'd had an argument."

After a moment, Tear sighed, confirming his suspicions.

He gave a nervous laugh. "What did he do this time?"

"Nothing really," she admitted, "he just said something careless. That's all."

"Well," Guy sighed, "sounds like Luke's still the same. I mean, Luke wouldn't be Luke if he didn't say a careless thing every now and again."

She felt an involuntary smile tug at the corners of her mouth as she remembered some of the careless things he had said in the past. "I suppose not," she agreed at last.

"Then why not go see him?" Guy asked. "Knowing Luke, he's probably moping around somewhere, worried out of his mind."

"Actually," she admitted, "I don't know where he is right now."

Guy seemed surprised. "Really?"

Tear glanced quickly from Noelle to the swordsman. "He had some…business to attend to in the city. He's probably gone to take care of it now." She shrugged. "I mean, I could just wait for him to show up back at the inn, but…" she trailed off, a faint blush painting her cheeks.

"You'd like to talk to him before then," Guy finished for her. "It's understandable."

"Yeah," she said after a moment.

"Well, in that case," the swordsman beamed, "I know where you can wait for him."

"Where?" Tear asked, genuinely curious.

"My manor," he answered. "Luke's been there once or twice. He probably still knows the way. If you want, you can wait for him there."

Tear glanced to Noelle. "If that's okay…"

The pilot smiled. "No, no, it's fine," she said, "In fact, I'd like to look around the city on my own for a while."

"You sure, Noelle?" Guy asked, "you can always come back to the manor if you want."

She waved him off. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "But I expect my Albiore to be in one piece when I get back."

He gave her a nervous grin. "Of course it will be. Why wouldn't it be??"

At this, Tear couldn't help but laugh. "We all know how you are when you get your hands on Fontech." She turned back to Noelle. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thanks Tear," Noelle said. "Y'all get going now. I'll catch up with you later."

"Right," Tear said, turning back to Guy, "now where is your manor?"

"Actually," he said, running a hand through his hair, "it's pretty close to here. Just to the east."

"Well then," she said, "I suppose we should go then?"

"Right. It's this way." He indicated towards the nearby gate, and she followed him. They turned and waved to Noelle before they left, and the pilot disappeared into the city moments later.

"You two seem to get along well," Tear said as they headed along the path towards the manor.

"What do you mean?" he asked, surprised.

"Nothing really," she mused. "I was just remembering something Luke told me."

"And what would that be?"

She laughed. "For a while, he was convinced that you and Noelle were an item."

This startled the Count. "What on earth? Why would he think that?"

"He was eavesdropping on you at Sheridan," she said with a frustrated sigh, "when you asked Noelle if you could fly the Albiore."

"Oh come on," he said with a genuine laugh, "that was something else entirely." His expression turned serious. "Besides…"

Though Tear wanted to know what it was that could disturb the normally easygoing swordsman in such a way, she refrained, feeling it was not her place to do so. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow at the comment, and the two continued to the manor in silence.

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"Luke, stop pacing."

The redhead turned to the fair-hair princess who sat patiently on the sofa at the other end of the room. "But, we've been waiting forever!"

"We've been waiting half an hour," she corrected, sipping calmly from the cup of tea that Elsi had brought her earlier.

"Where on earth could Guy have gone?" Luke muttered to himself. "When we got here, Pere had said that he'd only gone into town. He should have been back by now!"

"He'll get back whenever he get's back. There is no point in complaining about it."

Luke gave her an incredulous look. "And how can you be so calm?" he asked. "I thought you'd be at least a little worried."

"Actually," she said, placing the cup and its matching saucer on the table in front of her, "I'm probably more frightened right now than I've ever been." She looked away towards the floor. "It sounds shameful, doesn't it?"

"Not particularly," Luke said, walking over and sitting beside her on the sofa. "There's nothing wrong with being nervous. I suppose it's only natural. Even with all the assurances in the world, you'd probably still be nervous."

"I…suppose so," she said noncommitantly.

"C'mon," he said, leaning back into the soft sofa, "cheer up a little! This really isn't like you!" He gave her a slight nudge with his elbow. "If you're wearing that expression when Guy gets back, he'll be more worried about you rather than be glad to see you….Not that he wouldn't be glad to see you!" he amended hastily upon seeing her expression change.

"I know, I know."

"Just promise me one thing," he said. "Don't run away from this. I mean, if he cares about you, he _really_ cares about you. If he says he loves you, he probably _really_ loves you. He's lost so much in the past that it might kill him to lose something so dear to him. As his best friend, I ask you, please, don't hurt him."

She turned to look at him. "Luke." She hesitated for a moment. "All right," she said, "I promise you that I won't run. But, at the same time, he might no longer want to…be involved with me." She ignored the look that crossed Luke's face. "And I won't force him into something he might not want. So, I'll leave that decision up to him."

Luke's face crinkled up into an unreadable expression. "Natalia, I don't think—"

"If he says that he still wants to…pursue a relationship, then I will say yes."

"Natalia," Luke began warily, "are you sure you really want a relationship with him?"

She seemed genuinely startled by the question—so much so that all she could manage to do was stare, open-mouthed.

"Because," he continued, running a hand through his hair, "with the way you're going and all, it doesn't really seem like it, you know? You're so…well, to tell the truth, you just don't seem interested—like you're not even willing to give things a try.

"From the way you're acting, it almost seems like _he's_ the second choice here. So, I'm forced to ask you—is this really what you want? Cause, if there's one thing I know, it's that he won't be happy if you're _un_happy. So, if this isn't what you want, don't lie to him and tell him yes cause it'll only hurt him in the end."

She frowned and fixed himself with a critical stare. "Luke, I—"

He backed away a little. "Just…before you answer him, ask yourself…is this _really_ what you want?"

She opened her mouth as though she would reply, but whatever she was about to say was cut off when the door to the room opened and two people stepped through. Out of habit, both Luke and Natalia stood.

For a moment, both groups stood and stared at each other. At last, Tear stepped forward and extended a hand to the Kimlascan Princess. "Natalia," she said, "it's been a while."

"Too long, my friend," she said, taking hold of the proffered hand and giving it a hearty handshake.

Luke rushed forward, and gave Guy a hearty slap on the back, catching the blonde off-guard, nearly causing him to double over. "Guy! I haven't seen you in forever!"

Guy ruffled the red-head's hair. "You saw me last month when I was in Daath, delivering messages on behalf of the Emperor!"

Luke pouted. "Yeah, but still, until a couple of years ago, I was used to seeing you every day."

Guy gave a nervous laugh. "You're still such a kid you know."

"I am not."

"Such a kid," Guy replied with a knowing sigh. "I mean, really, you don't need me anymore. You've got Tear now, right?"

Luke's face turned as red as his hair. "That—I mean—"

Guy took a step back, sighing again. "Look, she told me some of what happened this morning."

If Luke's face was red before, it was almost purple now. "S-she did?"

"Not really," he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "but from what she said, I gathered, you two had an argument because you said something…shall we say—"

"Stupid?" Luke suggested.

Guy frowned. "Well, I was going to say something more along the lines of 'careless', but that's beside the point. Just…ah, look, Tear wants to talk to you. She feels bad about this morning."

Luke gave his friend a helpless stare. "She feels bad? But she didn't do anything. What happened this morning was all _my_ fault, and I feel bad enough about it for the both of us."

"Well," said Guy, giving the red-head a friendly shove, "go and tell her that. I'm sure she wants to reconcile just as much as you do. So, go and talk to her."

Luke hesitated, glancing none too subtly at the Princess. "Will…you two be okay on your own?"

For a moment, a pained look crossed the blonde's features but was quickly replaced with his normal smile. "Of course we will. Why wouldn't we be?"

Luke wanted to say something, but, for once, thought better of it.

"Okay," Luke said after a moment, "Tear and I will take a walk around the grounds. We should be back in a bit."

"Right then. You guys want something to eat when you get back? I could get the staff to prepare something."

"Nah," Luke said, shaking his head, "Tear and I should be fine. Besides, you've got more important things to attend to, don't you?"

Shock crossed the other man's face for a moment, but quickly subsided. "Yeah, I suppose you could say that," he replied vaguely.

Luke waited for him to say more. When Guy remained silent, however, Luke took the hint.

"Well," he said, "I guess Tear and I will be going then? Which part of the garden do you recommend?"

Guy merely shrugged as though disinterested. "All of it's nice, I guess."

"It's your manor, yet you don't have an opinion?" Luke mused. "I guess you must be really pre-occupied."

Guy frowned again. "Luke," he said in a dangerous tone, "I suggest you go _now_."

"Right," Luke agreed. "Going."

Guy watched as Luke headed over to where Tear and Natalia were still conversing and said something to Tear which made her regard him curiously for a moment before blushing several shades of crimson. She then nodded and followed him through the same doors through which she had entered not ten minutes ago.

The blond swordsman now turned his attention back to Natalia who waited rather nervously at the far end of the room. For a moment, he was uncertain of how to address her, but when he noticed that she took great pains to avoid looking him in the eye, he knew.

He started forward. "Princess," he said, placing emphasis on her title, "it is a pleasure to see you."

She drew back, as though she had been slapped but said nothing to correct him. "It is good to see you as well, Count Gailardia."

He walked over and sat down on the sofa across from her, gesturing for her to sit on the opposite chair. She did so after a moment's hesitation.

"Did you come here with Luke?" he asked, trying to keep the hope from edging into his voice. Mentally, he chided himself. Of course she came here with him. After all, why else would she be here?

"Yes," she answered, her tone hiding the unasked question: _Was I unwelcome?_

"Are you not…tired?" he asked, slightly concerned. "You were at the party all night, were you not?"

Of course, he knew that she had left the party halfway through, but he could not let on that he knew. But, if he just told her—just told her that he, in fact, was masquerading as the Emperor—wouldn't it make things so much easier for her? From the look of utter panic that had crossed her face the previous evening to the worry which now wrinkled her delicate features at the mention of the party, he could tell that she was, at the least, upset by the "Emperor's" attentions. But, why she was upset, he did not know for certain. If she had a genuine dislike for the Emperor, wouldn't that, by extension mean that she had a genuine dislike for him?

In that case, would telling her might not be the best thing?

He shook his head. No. That would force her into a corner—take away the choice he had sworn to give her. But, at this point, he wasn't certain what choice _he_ had.

He wasn't certain what to say, so he said the only thing that came to mind. "I can't…I can't do this anymore."

She looked up, startled. "P-pardon?"

He looked away, avoiding her eyes. "Look, I know that…the other day, I told you to go and do what you thought best, but…"

His voice trailed off. When he looked back, he found that she was watching him, eyes wide with…hope? Or maybe it was fear. He didn't know which.

"But…what?" she ventured, her voice quiet.

He took a deep breath as though that might steady him. For a moment, he thought he could get away with staying silent, but she was still watching him. And, for a moment, he found himself completely incapable of looking away.

In that moment, the words slipped out.

"I…I want you to stay with me."

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**Author's Note:**

Ah, not my favorite part as it was incredibly difficult for me to write. Originally, this part was supposed to be longer, but…ah, I thought this would be a "good" place to leave off. Well, anyway, it looks like this fic will, again, be extended by another chapter (since I had to cut this one).

Anyway, again, thank you all for your support! See you next chapter!


	21. Confrontation

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all for your support of this fanfic! It means a lot to me! By the way, there is some mild cursing in this part. I apologize if it offends.

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She could only stare, startled, maybe even frightened by the bluntness of his statement.

He seemed to realize this and looked away, whatever else he might have said swallowed by her astonished silence. He struggled to find the words to break the pall that seemed to have fallen over them.

"I apologize if I startled you," he said at last, drawing her attention back to him, "but I can't…no…I _won't_ apologize for the sentiment, because I mean it—every word."

He had hesitated in adding that last part, worried that, as…frightened as she seemed today, too much forwardness on his part might scare her off entirely. At first, she had glanced back towards him but, towards the end, had turned away, biting down on her bottom lip and twisting her hands nervously in her lap. At this, he had turned away, unable to hide the hurt that he knew must be evident on his face.

She hadn't wanted to hear that. He could tell not only from her reaction but also from the way she now struggled to find a response—this was not what she had wanted.

He tried to center himself—to regain some measure of self-control—at least enough to tell her that it was all right, that she didn't have to say anything because he understood.

But, it wasn't all right, and he didn't understand. His mind kept drifting back to that night in the garden. How, how could that have come to this? To him, it made no sense. He could only hope that she could explain.

"Please understand," she began, her words tentative, cautious, "that which I cannot say."

His fear provided him the words. "It was a mistake," he said at last, his words all but stifled by the dread that threatened to overwhelm him.

For a moment, she was silent, and he watched her, fearful of her response. At first her eyes widened, then, after another long stare she burst out, "No! That's not it!"

It was his turn to stare. Had she just said—?

She cut him off mid-thought, continuing as though she had not noticed his reaction. "The other night—I meant what I said! I do care for you—very much!" Her voice trailed off for a moment. "I wish there was some way to prove to you just how much I care," she added quietly after he didn't say anything. "Something…anything I could do."

"There is," he said at last.

"What?" she asked, her voice belaying the full extent of her anxiety.

Without a word, he reached across the small coffee table and, taking hold of her trembling hand, circled around to where she was, compelling her to stand in order to keep hold of his hand. When she stood, he led her away from the sofa to an empty corner of the room.

Turning towards her, he stepped closer to her and placed an arm around her waist.

"W-what are you doing?" she stammered, face flushing several shades of red.

He couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. "Not whatever you're thinking, I assure you."

She blushed again but said nothing.

He paused for a moment before slipping into the familiar steps of a waltz. Though there was no music, his steps were rhythmic, practiced and naturally graceful. She, however, was caught off-guard by the sudden movement and stumbled through the first few steps. Once she adjusted however, she moved with the grace expected of a Princess.

They danced in silence for a few minutes. He noticed that she glanced at him curiously a couple of times but did not let it bother him. He was simply savoring her presence—wishing that he could have danced with her like this at the ball.

"Is this…what you wanted?" she asked, breaking his train of thought. "You wanted me to dance with you?"

He smiled at her. "Actually, it's much simpler than that."

"It is?" she asked cautiously.

Abruptly, he stopped moving. Again, she did not realize this immediately and took an extra step. For a moment, she was off-balance, and he stepped forward, pulling her into an embrace.

Her entire body stiffened at the contact, and, for a moment, he feared she would push him away. When she didn't, however, he leaned closer and whispered to her, "All you have to do is choose me."

When she did not immediately answer, he pulled back, reluctantly letting go of her. To his surprise, tears were welling in her eyes.

Instinctively, he brushed away her tears with his thumb. As he pulled away, she reached up and, taking hold of his hand, twined her fingers through his.

"I…would like that," she admitted quietly. "Very, very much."

As happy as he was to hear those words from her, he could sense the "but" that would follow them. He tried to keep smiling—tried to keep his fear from showing. He wanted to say something, anything that would reassure her—convince her to say "yes". But, after all this time, his words had failed him, and he could not think of even a single thing to say. All he could do now was wait.

She remained silent for a long time, sending the knot of worry that had been aching the entire time to tighten in a sudden, painful spasm.

"How I would like to say yes," she murmured, absentmindedly tightening her grip on his hand.

How he ached. Just say yes. Just say yes. Just say _yes_.

"But I can't."

It seemed to take a moment for him to process the words. When he did, however, he glanced back at her, disbelieving.

"W-why—what do you mean?" he asked, voice trembling, the hurt in his voice all but palpable. "I don't…understand. I thought you…"

She looked away, pulling her hand from his. "It's…not that."

"Then what is it?!" he burst out, frustration welling in his voice. "After we've come so far, what could it be?"

She bit down on her trembling lip, refusing to answer.

"Is it about the Emperor?" he asked, his tone softer now. "Or is it about me?"

After a long moment she shook her head, no, to both. "This…is no one's fault but mine," she admitted quietly.

He drew in a deep breath as though to steady himself. "Then…your feelings _have_ changed."

"No! They haven't—!"

"They must have!" he exclaimed, turning back to face her, "why else would this choice be so difficult for you?"

She watched him, wide-eyed, for a moment, unaccustomed to such fury in the normally unflappable swordsman. After a moment, he turned away, hiding his face in his hand.

"I—I just can't understand," he said after a moment. "If you still…care…then why?"

Tears slipped out from the corners of her eyes. At last, she said in a voice as quiet as a breath, "Because I'm scared."

For a moment, he couldn't breathe. His lungs were expanding, but it was as though there was no air—nothing that could fill them, nothing that could sustain him. He found himself taking an involuntary step backwards.

"Not of you," she amended hastily, upon seeing the shattered expression on his face.

"Then…what are you afraid of?" he asked when he at last felt steady enough to do so.

"I-I don't know," she admitted honestly. "It's just…I was asked something…once. Whether or not I wanted a relationship with you. To tell the truth, I hadn't even thought about that before. I mean, I care for you, but…did I actually want to be involved in a relationship? An actual relationship means so much more than simply…caring for the other person. Feelings alone often aren't enough; it takes so much more than that. And, if I were to be in a relationship with you, I would want to do whatever it took to make it work."

"As would I," he assured her.

"But, that would mean that I would put so much of myself into the relationship. And—"

Her words trailed off into silence when he suddenly turned away from her and walked over to a nearby window. For several long moments he simply stood, staring out the window, neither speaking nor turning to look at her.

"I understand," he said at last, an uncharacteristic coldness in his voice.

"W-what?" she asked, somewhat uncertain.

"'That which you could not say'. I understand what you meant."

She was uncertain of what to say, so she remained silent.

"After all this time…after all we've been through," he continued without looking at her, "you don't trust me."

She drew in a startled breath. "That's—!"

"It is the truth!" he said sharply. "Why else would you be worried about investing yourself in a relationship unless you thought you wouldn't get a return! You're worried that, in the future, I'll betray you or leave you or hurt you in some manner! Isn't _that_ what it is?!"

"Of course it is!" she burst out, unable to hold back the tears any longer. "Of course I'm scared! And I have every right to be!"

"And why is that?! Have I ever done anything to betray or hurt you before?"

"No, not you," she admitted quietly.

He said nothing.

"But the last time I cared so much about someone—the last time someone claimed to care about me—he went off and died without a word!"

"He died _for_ you," he said at last. "It wasn't a betrayal."

She clenched her fists. "It was! At least to me! I cared for him so much, and, no matter how much he claimed to care for me, I still ended up alone in the end! I know it's selfish to say this, but I wish he hadn't died!"

"Would you rather Luke had instead?"

The words stopped her cold. "O-of course not!"

"So either way you still would have been unhappy."

"Y-yes, I suppose so."

"So then why are you blaming Asch?"

"I'm not blaming him! It's just that…if I'd known from the beginning that I would end up unhappy…I'd rather never have cared about the person in the first place!"

"So," he said, "now you'd rather choose the Emperor because you'd be unhappy with him from the start rather than risk being happy now and becoming unhappy later?"

She looked away. He sighed.

"That makes _no_ sense whatsoever! Why would you choose a relationship where you'd never be happy as opposed to one where you at least had the chance to be?!"

"Because—"

He cut her off. "Because you don't trust me! Why? I won't ever know. Why after you trusted me with your life in battle, you won't trust me with your heart now I'll never understand! It's an insult."

"Maybe, I don't," she admitted quietly. "And, maybe, this isn't what is best for me." She hesitated for a second. "Maybe, this just isn't what I want."

"Is that your final decision?" he asked, his voice taut with emotion.

She watched him carefully, wishing he would turn around so that she could at least see his face one more time before she took the step that would undoubtedly separate them forever. However, he did not turn back to her, and, for a moment, she was struck by the memory of Asch who, even in the end, never once turned back to her.

"M-my final decision?" she asked herself. "I-I suppose it is," she said after along pause. "I—yes. It is."

For a long moment he neither spoke nor moved. At last, he leaned forward, bracing himself against the window.

"Well," he said quietly, finally turning back to face her, "I guess this is it."

She drew in a sharp breath.

He glanced away, forcing a broken smile and pained chuckle. "You may not have believed me before, but your happiness _does_ mean everything to me, and I really will do whatever I can to make you happy," he paused for a second, "no matter how much it hurts me."

"W-what do you—?"

He turned back to the window again and took a deep breath.

"It's over."

It took a second for the words to register. "What?"

He did not look at her. "It's over. Done. Finished. I…don't want to see you again."

For a moment, she thought he had struck her, so sharp and sudden was the pain.

"Never again?" she asked, quietly, "Not even as a friend?"

"Never." The finality of the word was wounding. "After all," he continued, "you don't want a relationship with me, and friendship is a type of relationship. So, no. Never again."

She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. Whatever she might have expected, she had not expected this. Never see him again? After all this, it was his right to say that, but still…

"Why…?"

His response was instantaneous. "Because I love you dammit!" he burst out, whirling angrily on her, "not 'like' or 'care for'—'love!" Because I love you too damn much to let you go any other way! It's the only way I might ever be able to do this!"

"But can't you—?"

His fist shot out connecting with the window so hard that it shattered the glass. "No! I can't! Don't you understand?! It's taking everything I have to let you walk away like this! If I saw you again…I can't guarantee that I _would_ let you go again!"

A thick silence fell over the pair. For a long moment he studied his bleeding hand. At last he said, "I must bandage this wound. I'll go and do that now. Please don't be here when I come back."

Her breath caught in her chest. "And…that's it? That's all?"

"That's all," he said tiredly. "After all, what more can you expect? You ended this. What more do you want me to say?"

The words stung. Of course he was right. She had no right to ask anything more of him. After all, he was just protecting himself in the same way that she had. And, for him, there was nothing shameful about that.

"Nothing," she said, turning and heading for the double doors at the other end of the room.

"You know," he said stopping her in her tracks, "it's almost funny."

"What is?" she asked, hopeful.

"You always worried that you were cruel to me before, back when I served in the Manor," he paused for a second, "but this was by far the cruelest thing you have ever done."

The accusation pierced her heart. She turned on her heel, apology on her lips, but he was no where in sight. At the far end of room a door swung shut leaving her alone in the oppressive silence. For a moment, she wanted to run after him but stifled the impulse. He did not want to see her now. After what she had done, who could blame him? There was nothing she could do but leave.

She headed for the exit. As she stepped through the doors, she came face to face with a furious red-head.

"How dare you!" Luke burst out, starting for her. "Cousin or not, how _dare_ you?!"

The outburst startled her, and, for a moment, she was not certain what he was talking about. "L-Luke…what are you—?"

Tear stepped forward, placing herself between the replica and his target. "Calm down, Luke," she admonished him, "she doesn't even know what you're talking about."

"Like hell she doesn't," he muttered, "she knows _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

"What do you mean? What do I know?"

"Exactly! What _do_ you know?" Tear fixed him with a glare, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself to the point where he could actually answer without yelling. "I heard everything."

At first, she was not certain what he meant, but the critical glance that Tear gave him provided the answer.

"You eavesdropped on us!" She turned to Tear. "You too?"

"Of course not," the melodist answered. "I tried to tell him it was wrong, but—"

"Enough, Tear," he said, his tone frigid, "this isn't about eavesdropping, it's about what _she_ did to _my_ best friend!"

"Luke, I—"

"What you told him didn't even make sense! How can you claim to love someone yet not have a relationship with them? It makes _no_ sense whatsoever!" He paused for a long moment. "If he saw you acting like this, even Asch would be ashamed."

The frustration and helplessness that had been welling the entire day finally overflowed. "And what do _you_ know about Asch?!" she burst out, tears flowing freely, "You stole everything from him! His home, his name, his life! Everything! How dare _you _even talk about him?!"

Tear turned to her. "Natalia, that's going too far," she said, her tone solemn. "You can't just—"

"It's okay, Tear," Luke said placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "she's right."

The long-haired woman turned back to the red-head. "Luke!"

"But not in the way you're thinking," he assured her. "All I meant was that I shouldn't have brought Asch into this. After all, he has nothing to do with it." He turned back to the princess. "He has nothing to do with your being such a coward."

Natalia glanced back at her cousin. "A…coward?"

"Yes—a coward!" he said. "Because you claim you love Guy, but you're not willing to take the risk of being with him! You're a damn coward who's too afraid to take the risk—to fight for the person you claim to love!"

He fell silent for a moment. Then, in a sudden, swift movement, reached out and wrapped Tear in an embrace, pulling her to him.

"Luke, what are you doing?" the melodist asked, startled.

"Nothing really," he murmured quietly enough so that only she could hear, "just remembering how much I love you."

At this, Tear flushed several shades of pink and crimson. She turned back to look at him, but he was no longer looking at her. Instead, he had turned to address his cousin who was watching, rather embarrassed, from several feet away. Luke stood up straight but did not let go of Tear.

"Hey, Natalia," he called to the startled Princess, "Do you have any idea what I had to go through just to return to Tear?" The archer did not answer, so he continued.

"After the…incidents on Eldrant, I lost most of my memory. Well, perhaps 'lost' is not quite the right word. They were jumbled, incoherent. All I could gain from them was my name and precious little else.

"I spent three, nearly four years like that—waking with only an aching heart to tell me that something was missing and the vaguest memory of a promise to guide me. I hadn't a clue what either of them meant. At that point, I hadn't recovered enough of my memory to understand.

"I could have given up there and then—it would have been so easy, just to surrender and live in blissful ignorance. But I didn't! I chose to fight—to remember everything that had happened me—all the pain and suffering, all the guilt, all the blood that stains my hands, all the lives that now weigh down my soul when I could have simply forgotten everything! I chose to accept that burden instead of abandoning it!

"And why?!" He turned back to the woman in his arms, tracing the curve of her face gently with his thumb. "Because…even when I couldn't remember her name or her face, I knew without a doubt that she was worth it! That…whatever I had to go through, whatever I had to sacrifice to return to her—I knew that I'd rather give everything else up than live without her!

"But you," he said, addressing the princess again, "aren't even willing to risk the slightest chance of future unhappiness—which, knowing Guy, he would do anything to prevent! Instead, you choose a relationship which will make not only you but him miserable as well! That's not just the act of a coward; it's also the act of an idiot!"

"So go," he said, his tone livid, "go and marry the Emperor like you want. Just don't expect me to be at the wedding."

He fell silent, trying to catch his breath. Tear turned to him.

"Luke, I think you should stop now."

He gave her a curious glance. "What?"

Tear glanced over to where Natalia stood, the archer's small frame shaking with suppressed hurt that had turned to anger.

"Fine!" the Princess burst out at last, "I _will_ go, and I _will_ marry him just like I came here to do! I will fulfill my duty…because it seems that that's all I have left now."

"I'm glad you realize that," Luke seethed. "And just remember, ten years from now when you're miserable, that the whole situation could have been avoided if you'd just taken one small risk."

Natalia remained silent for a long moment. "I guess," she said at last, "that this is farewell to you as well."

Luke remained stubbornly silent. She watched him for a moment before turning away. "Well then," she said quietly, "I guess this is farewell to you too, Tear. So, goodbye. I wish you all future happiness." She headed, defeated, towards the exit.

"Natalia." Tear started forward, but Luke held her fast. For the first time in many years, Tear found herself wishing that he would just let go of her. "Luke! Let me go! You can't leave things like this!"

"Why not?" he asked, his expression severe. "It's what she wants."

"You should know better than anyone 'why not'," Tear fumed. "She may have done something stupid, but that's no reason to give up on her entirely!"

"Tear," he said, pulling away slightly, "she hurt Guy terribly."

"And you hurt all the people of Akzeriuth!" she reminded him.

At this, his hold loosened momentarily, and she slipped free. "You did a lot of stupid things in the past," she continued, "but none of us ever gave up on you! _I_ never gave up on you! You have no right to say so callously that you'd just give up on her like this!"

The replica took a step backwards, distressed. "Y-you're right, Tear," he admitted. "I shouldn't have—" He glanced around, half-frantic. "Oh hell! She's gone! I have to…talk to her or something!"

He started towards the exit, but Tear blocked his path.

"Wait," she said, "she probably won't want to talk to you right now."

His face fell. "You're right. But then…what should I…?"

She smiled at him, trying to reassure him. "Don't worry," Tear said, "I'll go and talk to her. _You_ go and talk to Guy. You're probably the only one he'll listen to now."

Luke nodded. "Right." He turned to head back into the small room, but hesitated for a moment. "And, Tear," he called out over his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

She blinked a couple of times. "About what?"

He blushed. "About what I said earlier."

"About what you said just now?"

He shook his head. "No, about what I said this morning."

"What did you say this morning?"

His blush intensified. "You know…about the…"

She gave a long-suffering sigh. "Look, I don't remember you saying anything this morning, all right? Let's just leave it at that."

Luke's expression turned from one of worry to one of utter relief. He opened and closed his mouth several times as though trying to speak, but he couldn't seem to find any words. After a long moment of silent deliberation, he stepped towards her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

"Oh thank Lorelei!" he said when he pulled away. "I was so worried! I didn't want you to leave me or something! I don't know what I'd do without you!"

"Idiot," Tear said with a smile when she had finally recovered enough to speak. "Like I'd ever give up on you. I swore that I'd keep watching over you. Remember?"

"So, I'll see you later, right?" he asked.

On an impulse, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Of course," she assured him. "Now go and talk to Guy. I've got to go and find Natalia."

"Okay," Luke said, pulling the door open. "We'll meet back here later."

Tear nodded. "Right. Now, go."

She watched as Luke vanished through the nearby door before she headed towards to manor's exit herself.

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On her way to the gate, Tear happened upon Anise who was being led into the manor by one of the maids.

"Anise!" Tear called out to the puppeteer, "did you see Natalia pass by this way?"

"Yeah," Anise replied, gesturing in the direction of the gate. "She just went back to city with the Colonel."

"With Jade?" Tear asked, surprised.

Anise nodded again. "Yep. She said something about having some business to attend to or something." The dark-haired girl tapped her chin thoughtfully. "She seemed really upset though. Did something happen?"

Tear couldn't help sighing. "More than you know, Anise. More than you know." 

The puppeteer regarded her curiously for a moment. "Anyway," she said shrugging, "I've got some important news for you all from the Colonel."

Tear waved her off. "Now's not a good time, Anise. I have to go talk with Natalia."

"But you probably won't be able to see her now…not until the party tonight," Anise pointed out. "She'll probably be resting until then."

"Oh," Tear said. She had completely forgotten about the party, which was the reason all of them were there in the first place.

"Anyway," Anise continued, "the news I have, is about Natalia."

Tear raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What is it?"

"Curious now, aren't you?" Anise asked with a mischievous smile. "Well, it'll cost you 1,000 Gald to find out, y'know."

"Anise."

The younger girl pouted. "Booo! Oh fine! The Colonel told me that the Emperor will propose to her tonight!"

Tear turned sharply to face the girl. "What?!"

Anise scowled a little. "I said he's gonna propose to Natalia _tonight_."

Tear's eyes widened. "We have to talk to Luke."

"Luke," Anise asked, dubious, "Why?"

"I'll fill you in later," she promised as she turned to head back into the mansion. "Just promise me that you'll keep quiet about this for a while."

"But the Colonel told me to tell _all_ of you about it!"

Tear sighed again. "Trust me; you'll understand when you see. Just promise me."

Anise shrugged again. "Fine, fine, I promise. All right?"

Tear nodded. "Good. Now, let's try to figure out how things will go from here."

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**Author's Note:**

Ah, this part was really difficult to write as I wasn't certain if the arguments made sense in either a logical sense or an emotional sense. What she is supposed to be feeling is kinda hard to put correctly into words. If I do it too lightly, she'll come off sounding insincere. If I do it too seriously, she'll come off sounding vindictive or something.

Saa…I can only hope I wrote it right.

Anyway, until next chapter.


	22. Rumor

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your support of this fanfic! You kind reviews mean so much to me!

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Normally, Jade was not opposed to silence. In fact, he rather preferred to avoid useless conversation, but, in this instance, he found it almost…unnerving. The normally chatty Kimlascan Princess had said absolutely nothing during the nearly twenty minute walk from Carmina Gaedelica to the Grand Chokmah palace. She had been brooding the entire trip, barely even noticing when they stopped in front of the door to her room.

He pushed the door open, hoping that it would distract her. She did not move, however. Instead, she merely stared at the floor, as though fascinated by the rich carpeting in the hallway. He ushered her through the door, sighing audibly when she stopped in the middle of the room and did not move further.

"I suppose you expect me to say something meaningful," he said with a shrug, "or, maybe, to ask what has upset you so."

She turned at this, but said nothing.

"Though I do not know what happened today," he continued, shrugging again, "I can say that, for a Princess, you certainly aren't handling it very well."

"I'm not in the mood to be lectured, _Colonel_," she shot back, turning away again.

"Perhaps not," he said, "but, apparently, you need to be."

"I don't want to hear it, Jade."

"But you will, whether you want to or not," he said, his voice firm. "Because you seem to have forgotten why you came here in the first place."

She whirled on him, her expression clouded with both pain and fury. "Of course I know why I'm here! I'm—"

"You're here as a potential bride for His Majesty," he continued coolly, seemingly unfazed by her display of emotion.

For a moment she stared, then, looked away towards the ground, her expression shifting as though she were trying to compose herself. "Note the word 'potential'," she said at last, the defeated tone in her voice telling him that she did not believe in her own argument.

He re-adjusted his glasses. "From what I observed last night, it's a bit more than 'potential'."

This drew her attention back to him. She blushed momentarily at the reminder of the previous night's fiasco but quickly regained her composure. "What do you mean?" she asked warily.

He hesitated for a long moment. To tell the truth, he wasn't certain whether he should tell her now or even if he should tell her at all. But, she had been visibly upset when he had encountered her at the manor—so much so, that she hadn't even bothered to conceal it. She might not be in the best state of mind to handle such news, but, still, if things happened the way he believed they had happened at the manor, then she might not get the news straight from the "Emperor" himself.

He glanced back at the princess, noting with a touch of concern the defeat evident in her posture and her tone of voice and sighed. He had, of course, been aware of her "tryst" with the Count. In fact, he had been aware of their attachment to each other even before they had been but had chosen to remain silent on the matter and let the two work things out on their own—if there was any "working out" to be done. And, needless to say, he had been aware of the potential problem presented by choosing Guy to be her escort. Still, he had proceeded, believing—if not _knowing_ that things would still go according to his plan. But still, with every contingency he had prepared for, he had not expected things to turn out like this.

It was like witnessing a Second Order Hyperresonance again—something so out of the blue, so _deus ex_ (though, as a man of science and reason he hated attributing anything to a deity or—worse yet—to chance)—that it simply could not be predicted. He who lived by the rules and principles of science was—for the first time in a long time—surprised. Things had not at all turned out as he had predicted—or, more accurately—things had gone much farther than he had imagined possible. Though, he supposed, emotions were never reasonable things to begin with; they acted on no principles, followed no rules and could change on a word or a whim. What they were was unpredictable—complete and absolute uncertainty. And if there was one thing he hated, it was uncertainty.

Still, there was nothing to be gained by simply standing around mulling over the uncertainty of the situation. At this stage, all he could do was move forward as though things were still in the realm of the certain.

He turned his attention back to her. "His Majesty," he said at last, "wishes to ask for your hand."

There was a moment of silence as she stared at him as though trying to process the words.

"M-my hand?" she stammered, her composure faltering slightly. "You mean…as in…_marriage_?"

"Yes," he said with a curt nod. "He was supposed to ask you tonight, but, unfortunately, I have been informed that he will be unable to attend the ball tonight as his illness has relapsed—probably a result of over-exerting himself before he had fully recovered. Instead, I was asked to deliver the message myself. A…troublesome request from an equally troublesome person."

She stared again, her words escaping her momentarily. In the silence, Jade noticed footsteps advancing down the hallway, stopping a few feet away from the open door. He smiled to himself, but remained silent.

"And that's it?" she asked, disbelieving. "One dance and he's proposing? And not only that, but he sends someone else to propose for him?"

Jade studied her carefully for a moment. "Is it really so unusual?" he asked.

Her response was instantaneous. "Yes! It is!" She glanced away again. "It feels like an off-hand choice. Like there was no thought put into it."

"Oh but there was," he assured. "A great deal of thought was put into this whole situation. And, I assure you, it only seems off-hand because the choice had already been made."

Her eyes widened. "You mean…?"

He nodded. "Yes. You were chosen from the beginning."

She drew in sharp breath then took a few steps away towards the bed where she sank down weakly on the edge of the mattress. "From the beginning?" she mumbled, "From the very beginning?!" Her voice rose in intensity. "Then…what about the ball?!" she demanded. "Why put me through all this?"

"It was simply a matter of politics," he replied evenly. "The ball was held so as not to offend all the Malkuth nobility who would have to be passed over as a result of this choice. Basically, it was done to make them feel as though they had a chance. When in reality—"

"When in reality," she picked up, bitterness ripe in her voice, "he had already chosen me."

Jade nodded again. "That's about the shape of things."

She glanced over at him again. "It would have been so much easier if he'd just told me from the beginning instead of waiting for me to get here—instead of putting me through all this for nothing."

"But it wasn't for nothing," he said. "He did this specifically with you in mind."

"What do you mean?" she asked, surprised.

Jade frowned. "I loathe explaining things."

Her expression changed, becoming unreadable.

"But this once," he continued with a shrug, "I'll humor you." He readjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "To put this plainly," he said, "he wanted you to choose him."

Something in her expression shifted, like water under ice, and she looked away as though unsettled.

"His Majesty did not want you to feel as though this were an obligation. If he had expressed direct interest in you, you would undoubtedly have felt much more pressure to say yes. You would have seen this marriage as an extension of your duty and simply accepted it.

"He did not want you to feel forced into anything, so, he let you come here as a potential bride rather than as his fiancée so that you would be free to choose. The 'potential' you mentioned earlier, essentially, means 'if you said yes' as opposed to 'if he chose you'. In the end, he gave you full control over the situation and left himself at your will."

"But why would he do such a thing?!" she burst out, her words tumbling out almost frantically. "I don't understand! What is he thinking?"

She put a delicate hand to her mouth as though trying to stifle whatever else might spill out.

Jade gave a dramatic sigh and rested his head against his hand. "Though a good ruler, His Majesty is a bit of a sentimental fool when in comes to emotions. And, having known him for most of my life, I feel fully justified in saying so.

"Of course he understands that he could have simply told your father that he wished you to be his bride and left it at that. But be this a political marriage or not, he still cares about your feelings, Princess. He did not want what happened to him to happen to you as well."

"You mean—?'

"Yes," Jade continued. "He did not want you to have to choose between your duty to your country and the person you love. If there is any such person. His Majesty was forced to make a choice between my sister and his country. And though his decision preserved order in his country, there isn't a day that goes by in which he doesn't regret it. So, in order to spare you from being forced into that situation, he gave you the chance to decline his proposal."

"He still loves Lady Nephry very much, doesn't he?" she asked quietly.

Jade hesitated before answering. "Yes, he does," he answered at last. "And she, him. I am certain. The marriage of one does not take away the pain of the other. The memory of a chance forgone—it will always be there. They are proof of that."

She looked away. "Then why does he want to marry me?"

"Because he understands that this country needs an Empress as well as he understands that he needs an heir, and he has decided that you would be best for the country. He has seen you exercise your capacity as a ruler and has decided that you would make a suitable Empress—not forgetting that this marriage would also unite the two countries and, possibly, bring peace to Auldrant."

Her expression shifted again. "So he's doing this for the sake of his country."

"Yes," he said. "It's political marriage by the book. Does it upset you?"

"No," she replied, turning back to him, "it is what I expected. More than I expected, actually, and" she added quietly, "probably more than I deserve."

He hesitated again. "Then, what is your answer?"

"My answer?" she asked, surprised.

"To his question. What is your answer?"

She stared at him, somewhat flustered. "I-I…don't know."

"Is there someone else you'd rather be with?" he pressed.

She looked away, stubbornly refusing to answer. He watched as a myriad of emotions passed over her face, each fading more quickly than the last with the exception of sadness which seemed to taint all her other expressions. After several minutes, he turned to leave, figuring she would not answer at all when she spoke suddenly.

"Yes."

He turned towards her. "Yes there is someone or—"

She cut him off. "Yes, I will marry the Emperor."

The words rang with a tone of finality that brooked no argument. Still, he had to make certain.

"There is no one?" he asked.

She looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. "There is…no one," she said, her tone hollow, defeated. She bit down on her lip, seemingly on the verge of tears.

"Then shall I deliver your response to His Majesty?"

"Actually," she said quietly. "I'd rather do it myself. I have something else to address with him as well."

A frown flickered momentarily across the soldier's face. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Princess," he said quickly. "His Majesty is very ill. Besides the doctor, I am the only one allowed to see him. However, I can deliver your message for you, if you wish."

She considered him for a long moment before nodding. "Tell him that I wish to be married as soon as possible. Tomorrow would be best."

Jade's frown deepened; he had not expected this. "I'm afraid, tomorrow is not…convenient," he said at last. "At least give His Majesty a day to recuperate. Furthermore, even the smallest ceremony—and given the time frame you request, it will have to be a small ceremony—requires some preparation, and I'm afraid those preparations will take, at the very least, a full day. So, it would have to wait until the day after tomorrow."

"That is acceptable," she said quickly, her tone slightly unsteady.

He bowed before turning on his heel. "Very well," he replied. "At any rate," he said, "you've had a long day. As the Emperor will not be in attendance and, as you have already given your answer, you are not required to attend tonight's…festivities. I suggest you rest this evening." He stepped towards the door, stopping briefly at the threshold. "Just let me ask you one thing," he said over his shoulder. "Why are you in such a rush to marry?"

She remained silent for a long moment. At last she said, "It is usually best to get these things done—"

"—before one can regret them?" he cut in.

She fell silent again, saying nothing further.

He gave a long sigh and stepped through the door, shutting it behind him. Whether she had intended to or not, she had given her answer.

He leaned back against the closed door, stopping momentarily to massage his temples as though that could soothe the headache that was starting to build. As he looked up, he noticed a flash of movement at the end of the hall. His smirk returned.

He traversed the hallway quickly and turned the corner. A servant was hurrying towards the nearby stairwell.

"You there!" he commanded. "Come here."

At this, the servant, a young girl looked up, terror evident in her wide eyes. Obviously, she had heard of his reputation. Out of fearful obedience, she started back down the hallway towards him.

"How much did you hear?" he asked, his expression purposefully severe.

She looked away, avoiding eye contact. "Pardon, sir? What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I know you were eavesdropping on my conversation with the Kimlascan Princess. Just tell me how much you heard."

She bit down on her trembling bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Sir," she burst out at last, "but I heard everything! I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the door was open and—"

He cut her off. "Put out your hand," he said sternly.

She froze momentarily before complying, shutting her eyes as though preparing for pain. To her surprise, however, three small, metallic objects dropped into her open palms, and, when she opened her eyes, she found that she was holding three gold pieces.

She looked back up at the soldier before her, waiting for an explanation.

"Now go," he said with a smirk, "and spread the news."

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Noelle glanced away into the distance where the sun lingered just above the horizon. She looked down at the small package in her gloved hands and sighed. Eight-thousand Gald seemed a lot for a scarf, but, she tried to console herself, it _was_ a very nice scarf indeed. It might have cost a lot more to buy something of the same quality in Sheridan.

Her last pilot's scarf had been a gift from her brother, Ginji, shortly before her very first flight, and though there was a great deal of sentimental value attached to the object, that was no excuse for the tattered appearance of the thing. When she had passed the store on her way back towards the manor, she had decided that, after all these years, she needed a new one.

The decision had been made with much trepidation, especially when she had glanced at the price-tag which had originally read 12,000 Gald. She had frowned. Grand Chokmah may have had nice things, but they were certainly _expensive_. For almost an hour, she had stared at the scarf, occasionally running a gloved hand longingly over the material, until the owner of the store had approached her, asking her if she was interesting in something while glancing meaningfully at the scarf.

She had been reluctant to admit that she wanted the thing, knowing that, under normal circumstances, that would have ruining all chances of haggling—though, she wasn't certain the price would come down enough for to buy the thing even _if_ she haggled. But the owner had been watching her for sometime and immediately suggested the scarf.

And so, she had ended up trying on the scarf and staring at it in the mirror, and thinking how perfect it looked with her jacket—which, to her dismay, seemed rather worn in comparison to the scarf.

At some point, she didn't know when, the bell over the shop door had rung and the owner had dashed off to deal with what she assumed was another customer. It wasn't until he burst out excitedly that this was a real cause for celebration that she turned around just in time to see a middle-aged woman in a servant's uniform vanish out the shop door.

Noelle had never been one to pry into other people's business, but, in this case, she almost couldn't resist.

"Did something happen?" she asked the owner cautiously.

To her surprise, he turned back to her, practically beaming and smiled a wide smile.

"Did something happen?" he exclaimed, euphoric, "Did something happen? Something wonderful has happened!"

"May I ask what it is?" she asked, stepping away from the mirror and removing the scarf carefully from her neck.

"Of course you may!" he all but sang. "For I must share this joy with everyone!" He glanced back at the scarf in her hands. "And to celebrate, I'll give a big discount on the scarf! How does…8,000 Gald sound?"

She glanced back at the scarf in her hand, deciding that 8,000 Gald wasn't too bad a price to pay for a normally 12,000 Gald scarf. She nodded, handing the item over to the owner who dashed behind the desk to ring it up.

"So," she began as she handed over the Gald to pay, "what happened?"

He paused in the middle of wrapping the scarf in tissue paper to look up at her. "You mean I didn't tell you?"

She shook her head.

"Oh bless Lorelei!" he laughed, clasping his hands over his barrel-like chest, "I was so caught up in the moment that I must have forgotten!" He leaned towards her as though about to tell a great secret. "The Emperor," he laughed happily, "has chosen a bride! Oh at long last!" he continued, never noticing the look of sheer shock that had crossed over the pilot's face, "Malkuth will have an Empress!"

"That's wonderful," she smiled rather awkwardly. "So, I suppose he's made a choice then. Is there any news on the bride-to-be's identity?"

He tied the final knot on the bundle and handed it back to her. "Yeah," he said, his joyful expression faltering ever so slightly, "it's the Kimlascan Princess. Hard to believe, I know," he said upon noticing the disbelieving expression on the pilot's face. "Some people'll be uncomfortable with the idea of such an…alliance with Kimlasca, especially after how long the two countries have been fighting each other. But still, I trust that his Majesty knows what's best for Malkuth. After all he's—"

Noelle held up a hand to cut him off. "That's great," she said with a forced smile, "but there's really somewhere I have to be now."

He considered her for a moment. "Oh, I understand. Well, just be sure to tell your friends this piece of good news!"

She had bowed, agreed and thanked him for the discount before rushing out through the door and glanced at the sky to check the time.

"He has to know," she told the small package in her hand. "Someone has to tell him."

She stared at the bundle. How could things have gone so wrong so quickly? What was it that had led to this situation? And most of all, she wondered as she took off in the direction of the manor, could things possibly be fixed?

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"I don't believe it!" Anise burst out as she and Tear re-entered the manor. The shorter girl stopped walking for a moment and tugged on the ends of her long pigtails. "I mean, I always suspected…well, _something_…but I didn't know…that they were…you know."

"Neither did we," Tear said quickly. "I don't think any of us knew. It seemed to happen so suddenly."

"If anyone knew," Anise commented, "the Colonel probably did."

"But how long did he know? Since when—?"

Anise shrugged. "Inista Marsh would be my best guess. I mean, when you think about it, things seemed to change between them after that."

"You might be right," Tear admitted after a pause. "But if it was building since then…" she broke off mid-thought. "Then three years went by when they didn't see each other."

"And then they saw each other that time at Tataroo Valley when Luke returned," Anise continued, picking up where the melodist left off. "But it didn't seem like there was anything between them then."

"Three years is a long time, Anise," Tear said sensibly.

"But you and Luke were apart for three years," Anise reminded her, "and your feelings for each other didn't change."

Tear looked away to hide her growing blush. "Y-yes, but Luke and I…"

"Is it really all that different?" Anise asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

"What do you mean?" Tear asked, concerned.

Anise looked away, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. "Even if…there was no confession," she said, her voice trembling, "even if the feelings were never expressed…they were still there. Time…no matter how much, might not change them. When you're apart from someone you…care for…no matter how long a time you're apart, even if you never told them how you felt…it doesn't mean that the feelings simply go away…no matter how hard you might try to make them."

Tears brimmed in the corners of Anise's eyes.

"And sometimes," she continued, rubbing furiously at her eyes, "all it takes is seeing them again and everything just…comes back." Her breath hitched. "It comes back…like a flood, but you can't escape it." The corners of the girl's mouth twitched up slightly as though she were trying to force a smile. "And it's always worse when you didn't say anything cause then you feel what you felt all those years ago but also feel like you have no right to say it after all that time." She turned back to the melodist. "It was a little different with you and Luke, Tear," she said, "because you two had a promise. But…otherwise…I can tell you…for them, it's probably the same."

"Anise," Tear began, placing a hand on the dark-haired girl's shoulder, "is this…about Ion?"

"O-of course not!" Anise said, taking a few defensive steps away. "I mean, it's not like I can see him anymore, after all."

"You do," Tear said, refusing to be dissuaded. "You see him in Florian, don't you?"

"Florian's not Ion, Tear," Anise said firmly, as though trying to convince herself of that fact. "It's not like I sometimes mistake him for Ion, or call him by that name or something. And it's not like I don't realize that what I felt was for Ion and not for Florian. It's not like I get mixed up that easily. And it's not like all that stuff he says bothers me or anything—"

Tear stepped forward, drawing the younger girl into a hug. "I'm sorry, Anise," she said quietly.

Anise forced a laugh and stepped back. "What're you apologizing for, Tear? It's not like you're the one who—"

"Still, I'm sorry," she said simply.

The younger girl simply stared for a moment before shaking her head as though to shake of the somber mood that had settled over them. "Thanks, Tear," she said at last, "but now's not the time to feel sorry for me." The puppeteer set her hands firmly on her hips. "Right now, we have bigger problems to deal with, right?"

"Anise…"

The younger girl jogged away down the hallway they had stopped in. "Don't worry about me," she called over her shoulder. "I'll be fine. I promise."

"If you say so," Tear said, still watching the girl.

Anise nodded. "Yup. I promise."

Tear hesitated for a moment before starting down the hallway.

"You know," Anise added after a moment, "Luke was right. You do make a good big sister."

"Really?" Tear asked, a bit unsettled. "I…didn't know he thought of me as a…sister."

Anise's eyes widened as though realizing her mistake. "That's not what he meant, I'm sure," she said, trying to reassure the older woman. "He just meant you're good at dealing with people. That's all."

"Oh…okay, I guess."

"Well, at any rate," Anise said, cutting into Tear's thoughts, "let's go see what's going on in there." She gestured towards the door.

Tear nodded. "Right. Let's go."

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Luke watched as his best friend of many years disinterestedly bandaged the wound on his hand. The cuts, though not especially severe were numerous and each stood a chance of getting infected. Noting that his friend had not only neglected to disinfect the wounds but was also struggling with the bandage, Luke stepped forward.

"You're not doing that properly," he said after a long moment. "Let me help."

Guy looked at him but said nothing.

Luke carefully removed the used bandage and placed it aside before applying some of the antibiotic ointment procured from the first aid kit. Then he carefully wrapping a fresh bandage, double-checking to make sure it wasn't too tight.

"Not bad, huh?" Luke said, trying to break the silence that had fallen over them. "Tear taught me basic first aid, just in case."

"In case of what?" Guy asked, speaking for the first time in several minutes.

"I dunno," Luke said as he pulled the scissors out of the kit. "Tear seems to think I'm really clumsy or something and that I'll injure myself simply by walking." As he said this, he snipped off the excess bandage, not noticing that he had also snipped the edge of his finger.

Seeing this, Guy couldn't help laughing weakly. "It seems she's right," he said.

"What?" Luke looked down at his hand, noticing with a frown that he was bleeding. "Oh great," he muttered, "just when I was trying to make a point." He sighed and replaced the scissors in the case.

"Aren't you going to bandage that?"

Luke shook his head. "Nah," he said. "It's just a small cut. It'll stop bleeding in a second."

"So the pot calls the kettle black," Guy muttered.

"Hey, my cut's not as bad as yours, so I don't have to worry as much about it."

"It's not like you punched a window," the blonde retorted.

"It's not like I wanted to," Luke shot back.

At this, Guy's gaze fell away towards the floor.

"Sorry," Luke sighed after a long moment. "I didn't mean…"

"It's not your fault," Guy said quickly.

Luke gave him a plaintive glance. "But…I can't help thinking that it was! That maybe there was something I could have said to her—"

"There was _nothing_ you could have done, Luke," he said, his tone firm. "She's just like that. I guess…I should have seen it coming. I mean…when she has the choice of anyone in practically the whole world—why would she choose me?"

"You think she doesn't care?"

The blonde sighed. "I'm not sure what to think any more."

"Whatever you may think," came a voice from the far end of the room, "I can tell you what I know. And I know she does care for you."

"Tear," Guy said, turning around. "And Anise."

"Oh boo!" muttered Anise. "What's with that frown? Are you _that_ unhappy to see me?"

"Sorry Anise," he said after a moment. "I'm just not…in the mood for jokes. That's all."

Luke shrugged. "It seems as though Guy would rather sit around and mope for the rest of the month or so."

Guy glared, but said nothing.

Anise pouted. "Oh boo! That's no fun!"

"Luke, Anise," Tear chided, "be more considerate! He's been through a lot today."

Luke glanced back at his friend momentarily. "I'm sorry, Guy," he said at last, "but I can't just leave things like this."

"You have no choice in the matter!" he burst out. "She made her choice, and I made mine and that's all there is to it!"

"So that's it?!" Luke exclaimed, turning back to face his friend. "One roadblock and it's all over?!"

"It's not just a roadblock," Guy said, defeated, "it's a sign that says 'end of the road'."

"Surely there must be something beyond that," Tear suggested, stepping forward to join them.

He turned away. "There is for her, but not for me."

"And you're just going to give, just like that?" Luke asked, exasperated.

"It's not a matter of 'giving up'!" Guy shot back. "I haven't got a choice in the matter!"

"Of course you have a choice, idiot," Tear sighed, massaging her temples.

Guy looked up. "Tear?"

Luke started forward at the same time. "Tear," he whined, "I thought I was the idiot….I mean, you always called me 'idiot'."

Tears glanced at him. "You're…jealous?" she asked, disbelieving. "Idiot," she muttered, glancing in the red-head's direction.

Luke couldn't help the grin that broke out across his face.

"Anyway," Anise broke in, "Luke's…bizarre objection aside, I think the title fits."

"Not you too, Anise," he groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"Of course 'me too'!" she said, pointing at him. "I can't believe you! I may be younger than you, but even I can see that you're being…well, an idiot!" She huffed indignantly. "The way you're going, even Luke seems more mature than you!"

"That's an insult, Anise," Guy said.

In the background, Luke opened his mouth to protest, but Anise cut him off. "It was meant to be," she fired back.

"Doesn't anyone care that they're insulting me here?" Luke muttered to himself.

"It doesn't seem so," Tear replied, moving to stand beside him.

"You say these things," Guy continued, ignoring Luke and Tear, "when you don't even understand the situation I'm in!"

"Of course I don't understand!" she admitted, squaring her shoulders and staring him down, "because you won't even talk about it! Since we came in, you've just been beating around the bush, arguing about every little thing that we say, but you won't even face the real problem! You can't even say what's hurting you so bad about the situation!"

Luke turned to Tear. "I don't understand," he whispered to the melodist. "Just what is Anise asking him? Didn't you explain the situation to her?"

Tear merely shrugged. "I did explain—well, at least everything I knew. I don't understand where she's going with this."

Luke sighed. "I get the feeling she's backing him into something. She's been spending way too much time around Jade."

"She refused me," he said, his words spilling out faster than he could contain them, "what more is there to say about it?!"

"Plenty!" the puppeteer retorted. "Like just why that hurts you so much!"

He fell silent for a long moment. "Just what do you want me to say?" he asked at last, his voice dangerously calm. "Do you want me to break down and give some long soliloquy about how she is light of my life and the breath of my soul? To say that she is the first thing in my mind when I wake and the last before I sleep? Is that what you want me to say? Well, I'm sorry! I can't!" He clenched his fists and looked away. "I can't…because there _aren't_ any words to describe just how much I damn well love her!"

Everyone fell into stunned silence in the wake of the admission. At long last, Tear stepped forward.

"If you feel so strongly," she said, "you should tell her so."

Guy looked up at her. "But—"

"No 'buts'," Tear said firmly. "You should tell her."

"It won't change anything," he said.

"There's always that risk," Anise interjected, "but you won't know unless you try!"

"I _do_ know, because I _have_ tried."

"You told her _once_," Luke corrected.

Guy bit back a reply, knowing that they would only counter it.

"In some cases," Luke continued, "once might not be enough."

"Yeah," Anise agreed, nodding vigorously, "you have to remember her situation! She was told once that she was loved and then, for all intents and purposes, she was abandoned!"

"I'm not Asch!" he countered.

"And she knows that!" Anise shot back. "She knows that, but she doesn't! I don't know how else to explain it!"

Tear picked up where Anise left off. "What she needed—or, perhaps what she wanted, was for you to show that you wouldn't let go so easily."

"I didn't let go!" he protested. "She made the choice to end it! I gave her that option—let her make the final decision!"

"But you didn't even try to stop her," Luke said. "She just said no, and that was it!"

"And it was fully within her rights to do so! I wasn't going to force her into a relationship she didn't want!"

Anise scratched wildly at her head. "Ugh! You just don't get, do you? She probably wanted you to show that you wouldn't let her go so easily! To her, it must seem as though she meant nothing, despite everything you said otherwise! In this situation, Guy, words spoke louder than actions, and you simply told her to leave and did nothing to prove you meant otherwise! What was she supposed to think?"

"If that was what she wanted then why didn't she just say so?" he burst out. "Why didn't she just tell me what she wanted?" He sank down weakly on a nearby sofa. "I would have done anything for her. So why…why didn't she just tell me?"

"…Do you really think that was something she just could have asked for?" Tear asked quietly. "Especially if she wasn't sure exactly what it was she wanted?"

He considered what she said for a long moment. "No," he admitted at last.

"So, do you understand now?" the melodist continued.

"A little," he admitted sheepishly. "You guys want me to talk to her." 

"Well," Anise drawled, "that _would_ be a start."

The group fell momentarily silent.

"So," Luke said at last, "how do you suppose we set this up?"

"The party tonight would probably be best," Guy suggested. "She'll most likely be there."

Tear tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Anise," she began warily, "wasn't there something about the party tonight?"

Anise turned to her. "Huh? What?" The younger girl stared for a long moment. "Oh crap! I totally forgot!"

Her startled shout drew all eyes in the room towards her. Without another word she dashed forward, grabbed Guy by the arm and dragged him towards the door ignoring his shouts of protest.

"Oh this is bad!" she wailed. "Really, really bad!"

"What is?" he asked, planting his feet firmly to prevent her from pulling him along and tried to shake her off of his arm.

She tugged harder on his arm, trying to get him to move. "There's no time to explain! You have to get to the palace! Now!!!"

"Why?! Will someone explain what's going on?"

Anise stomped her feet. "If you don't hurry then—!"

Before the puppeteer could finish her sentence, the two doors to the room burst open and a visibly exhausted Noelle stumbled through and dropped to her knees, breathing heavily.

While Anise was distracted, Guy managed to free his arm from her grasp. He started forward towards the pilot.

"Noelle, what happened?" he asked. "Are you all right?"

She coughed a couple times, but nodded, waving him off.

"I'm fine," she said at last, "it's just that I ran all the way here from the city."

Luke stared in disbelief. "You _ran_ all that way! That's like…really _far_!"

Noelle nodded again. "I had to…" she coughed again, "tell you all. Something's happened back at the city!"

Behind them, Anise sighed and dropped her head into her hands. "Oh no," she said to herself. "It's too late!"

"What is?" Guy asked, panic edging into his voice.

Noelle pushed herself back to her feet. "I…don't know how to tell you this," she said quietly, "but…it's about the Princess."

He froze. "About…Natalia? Did something happen?"

Noelle hesitated for a long moment before nodding solemnly.

"Yes," she said at last. "She—she's accepted the Emperor's proposal."

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**Author's Note:**

Ah man, so this has to be the longest part I've written yet! The last section was difficult for me to write for the same reason as the last chapter was difficult. I wasn't sure that the emotional arguments made sense. I tried my best, however, to make everything fit.

Anyway, thank you for your support of this fic. See you all next chapter!


	23. Proposition

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the fantastic response to Chapter 22! It means so much to me! Again, thank you so much everyone!

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Luke was the first to speak.

"What? That can't be possible!"

Noelle shook her head slowly. "Well, it was only a rumor being spread among the townspeople, but still, I don't think they'd say something like that without there being some truth to it."

"Do you know the origin of the rumor?" Tear asked.

"No," Noelle admitted with another shake of her head, "The shop keeper I heard it from heard it from a woman in a servant's uniform. I assumed she worked at the palace, so I thought the rumor to be true."

Anise frowned. "Rumor or not, there's still a chance that it might be true."

"But, if it's a rumor, there's a chance it might be false as well," Tear pointed out.

"I agree with Tear," Guy said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "I think it's false." He paused for a moment, shaking his head slightly. "No. That's not quite right. I actually _know_ it's false."

"How?" Luke asked, visibly perplexed.

All eyes turned to the blond count. He hesitated, uncertain whether or not he should explain. After several long moments, he turned back to his friends.

"Well," he said, "the Emperor couldn't have proposed to her himself because—"

"—Because," came a voice from the far end of the room, "His Majesty is not currently in Grand Chokmah. In fact—he might not even be in Malkuth yet."

"What are you doing here, Jade?" Guy asked without even turning around to face the soldier.

The bespectacled man shrugged nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by the venom in the Count's voice. "Oh nothing in particular," he drawled. "I just dropped by to see an old friend. Is there something wrong with that?"

Guy scoffed at the remark, but said nothing.

"Anyway, anyway," Anise cut in, waving her hands above her head as though trying to disperse the tension that had settled over the group, "Colonel, what do you mean by the Emperor's not here?"

He looked over at her. "Precisely that, of course. He's not here."

Luke started forward. "So…then…he's holding these dances, but he's not even here?"

"No," Jade replied simply.

Luke's face twisted into a bewildered expression. "But then…what's the point of doing all this? How's he supposed to pick a bride when he's not even—?" The red-head's words died away into a strangled silence as he tried to figure out how that was supposed to work.

To everyone's surprise Jade let out a low chuckle.

"Colonel??" Anise asked, vaguely concerned. "Are you all right?"

He waved away her question and her concern. "Oh, he's been there," Jade said. "In fact, he was there last night."

Luke stared for a moment. Behind him, Guy's composure faltered momentarily, but everyone was too focused on the colonel to notice.

"Wait," Tear said, placing her hand against the side of her head as though to ward off an impending headache, "you just said he's not even in the city. How could he have been there last night?"

Jade smiled cryptically for a moment. "Care to explain, Guy?"

Everyone turned back to the blond swordsman, all waiting for an explanation. He, however, remained stubbornly silent.

"Guy," Luke said at last, "if you know something, then tell us. No keeping secrets from your friends, remember?"

Jade shrugged. "It's not a secret, _per se_."

Luke frowned. "Then what exactly is it?"

Neither Jade nor Guy said anything further, leaving the others to merely stare in bewilderment.

"At any rate," Jade said, breaking the silence, "he knows why the proposal can't be official."

"And why is that?" Anise asked with a frustrated sigh.

"Because the Emperor himself didn't propose to her," Guy said at last. "Isn't that right, Jade?"

"Whatever might you mean?" Jade asked, feigning innocence.

He turned back to the soldier, his expression severe. "I mean that the Emperor couldn't have proposed because he's not here."

Jade shrugged again. "Someone else could have done it on his behalf."

"And who would that be?"

"You, perhaps," Jade said bluntly, drawing surprised stares from everyone except Guy, "after all, you have been masquerading as the Emperor, have you not?"

"Don't misunderstand," Guy said quickly. "I was asked by His Majesty to court her for him while he was away."

"And you agreed to that?!" Luke burst out, disbelieving.

"I couldn't very well refuse," he countered coolly. "It was a direct request from His Majesty, and I didn't have any good reason to refuse."

"Of course you did," Tear said, frowning, "you could have said it was a conflict of interest."

"So why didn't you?" Luke asked.

"That's not important now," Anise said, brushing the question aside, "what is important is that I think I see where the Colonel is going with this."

Jade raised an eyebrow at this. "Do you now, Anise?" he asked. "Then feel free to explain in my place."

For a moment, it seemed as though Anise would protest but she sighed and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "What the Colonel is saying," she said at last, "is that because the Emperor did not propose to her, according to Malkuth tradition the proposal isn't official, meaning she's not officially engaged. Isn't that right, Colonel?"

The tall man simply nodded.

"And…to make the proposal official," she continued, "the Emperor or, in this case, the person who's acting in his place, would have to propose to her himself."

"Furthermore, if she is to marry His Majesty," Jade cut in, "the proposal would have to be witnessed by others. For common folk and lower ranked nobility, witnesses are not required."

"So in other words," Tear said, seeing where Anise and Jade were heading with this, "since the Emperor is not here, Guy, who has been acting in his stead, must go and propose to her as the Emperor for it to be official?"

"And that means she can still back out!" Luke grinned. He turned to his long-time friend and gave him a hearty slap on the back, causing the blonde to momentarily lose his balance. "And _that_ means there's still a chance!"

Guy struggled to keep himself composed. Truthfully, the news…even the thought was more than he had hoped for. But…he would not let hope cloud his judgment.

"And what about the rumor?" he asked, his voice taut.

"It's just that," Jade said matter-of-factly. "A rumor spread by a maid—easily disproved since no one has witnessed the proposal."

He looked to them, wide-eyed. He was trying his hardest to remain calm, but the doubt and fear that had plagued him earlier were quickly being eroded by hope.

"So…then…I…"

Luke grinned broadly. "Yeah! So go and talk to her! Hell! Propose if you get a chance!"

"I can't do that!" he protested. "Not after…." He sighed. "Besides, she might not even want to see me now."

"Well," Anise pointed out with a smile, "_you're_ not going to see her. The _Emperor's_ going to see her."

"So," Luke said, picking up where Anise had left off, "you'll be able to talk to her without her even knowing it's you. So she'll be listening even if she wouldn't otherwise—not that she wouldn't!" he amended hastily.

"But…what if she still accepts the Emperor…or refuses me?" he asked, doubt settling uncomfortably in his gut.

"Would you rather stand by and do nothing?" Tear asked.

After a long moment, Guy shook his head. "No."

"Then just go!" Anise said with a dramatic sigh. "Go and talk to her!"

"And if she runs off this time," Luke said, grimacing slightly, "for the love of Lorelei _go after her_!"

Doubt twisted like a knife in his stomach. "But…"

"Honestly," Tear said, "I saw her face when she left. She wanted you to stop her from leaving. She won't hate you for coming back for her."

"Furthermore," Jade said calmly, "she seemed rather uncertain about accepting the Emperor's 'proposal'."

The count turned his attention back towards the tall soldier. "Wait a minute. Jade. You're helping us? I thought you were supposed to help His Majesty."

Jade stuck his hands in his pockets and fixed Guy with a stare. "I'm not 'helping' anyone," he said, "I'm just stating a fact. Please don't accuse me of things I did not do."

"Feeling guilty, Colonel?" Anise asked with a sly smile.

"Hardly, Anise."

She studied him for a long moment, but his face remained impassive, revealing nothing. After a long moment, she turned away.

"So, Guy, are you going to go talk to her?"

He looked away. "I…guess."

She frowned. "Not 'I guess'. It's either yes or no."

He hesitated. "Then 'yes'," he said at last. "I will go."

Her frown turned into a wide grin. "Then, I suppose you'll need a ring, right?"

He turned back to her, staring. "What?"

"Oh come on," she said as though it were obvious, "if the Emperor were going to propose to her, he would have a ring. It would look suspicious if you went without one. Besides, if _you're_ gonna propose, then you'll definitely need one."

"A ring?" Guy said, "where am I going to find one? It's middle of the night now. Most of the stores would be closed."

"Maybe you could use one of the Holy or Mental Rings?" Tear suggested, completely at a loss. "I mean, they're rings, but…"

"I don't suppose _you've_ taken care of this too, Colonel?" Anise asked smugly.

He gave a dramatic sigh. "Why must you keep accusing me of things, Anise?" he asked. "Do you really mean to torture my weary soul so?"

The dark-haired girl raised an eyebrow at this. "The Colonel has a soul?" she laughed. "I always thought you were a vampire or something."

He sighed again. "It's always so difficult when people take me seriously."

"At any rate," Tear said, "we still need to find a ring. Does anyone have any ideas?"

A silence settled over the group for several long moments. At last, Luke sighed and, reaching into his pocket, pulled out a small silk bag and tossed it to his friend who caught it easily.

"Here, use this," he said.

Guy glanced down at the bag in his hand, opened it and dropped a small golden ring into his open palm. "Luke, what is…?"

"It's just what it looks like," Luke said.

"I know what it looks like. It's just…where did you…?"

Guy glanced from his friend to Tear, trying to understand. Upon seeing that Luke was taking great pains to avoid the melodist's eyes, he understood.

"Luke," he said slowly. "I can't take this."

"You can and you will," Luke said firmly.

"But…"

He shook his head. "No buts. It's just a ring. Besides, you need it more than we do."

He looked to Tear and thought of asking her if it was all right with her. Judging from the stunned look on her face, she had probably pieced together the situation, but he felt it wasn't his place to say anything. Instead, he placed the ring back in the bag and slipped the bag into his pocket.

"Thanks, Luke," he said at last. "I owe you one."

"No you don't," Luke said, "so just go and talk to her! Now!"

He hesitated for a moment.

"Thanks everyone," he said as he started for the door, "for this second chance. I swear to you all that I won't waste it."

"You'd better not!" Anise laughed as he vanished through the doors.

As the sound of her laughter dissolved into silence, the doors swung shut behind him. For a long moment, the four people in the room simply stood in silence.

Tear moved up to stand beside Luke and quietly placed a hand on his arm.

"Luke, about that ring…"

"I'm sorry," he sighed after a moment. "I promise I'll explain things later. For now…"

"For now, let's just deal with this," she said, finishing his sentence for him.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her against him. "Thanks for understanding."

She said nothing further, only nestled comfortably against him.

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Frustrated, Natalia slammed the leather-bound diary shut and glanced away. She had begun writing a few hours ago, in order to try and distract herself from the fact that she had just…agreed to marry the Emperor. On several occasions, her mind had involuntarily drifted back to the unpleasant topic, but each time she had managed to push the thoughts aside by focusing on whatever she had been writing.

Of all the events recorded in the journal, why now did she have to reach Inista Marsh—the absolute last thing she wanted to remember. She had tried to convince herself that the event meant nothing to her—that the ache that had begun building her gut had more to do with missing dinner than with certain…memories.

Standing, she stepped away from the desk and moved toward the balcony, pushing the sheer curtains aside and stepped outside. She leaned against the balustrade, shivering slightly in the chill night air. A quick glance at the sky told her that it was a full moon. Maybe that was the reason she was feeling so unsettled this evening.

After all, it had absolutely _nothing_ to do with her impending marriage (or, impending _doom_ as her mind kept putting it).

She leaned forward, propping her head in her hands and stared towards the city. Absentmindedly, her gaze stayed towards the far edge of the city. Though she could not see it, she knew that just beyond the city gates there lay a small, beautiful manor where what seemed a lifetime ago, she had stood under a starlit sky.

The ache in her gut moved into her chest, and she turned away from the cityscape, heading back into her room. As she stepped back through the doors, her eyes fell immediately on the journal which she had left on her desk. She gave a frustrated sigh and turned, instead, towards the fountain, figuring that, at the very least, it was something that wouldn't remind her of…

No!

She squeezed her eyes shut.

No, no, no, no, no! Don't think about…!

But it was too late. His face floated before her eyes and his name fell quietly from her lips.

She tried to breathe, to calm herself.

There was no point in thinking of him now. It was over. Done. Finished. He had told her he didn't want to see her again, ever. It had hurt her more than she dared admit to hear those words from him. Who was she kidding? It was agonizing. What hurt her even more, however, was that she had believed them.

It wasn't that she disbelieved what he had said before. On the contrary, she found she trusted most everything he said. But this…in all the time she had known him, never had he said something merely out of anger. Usually, he was so calm and level-headed that it precluded any such outbursts. So then, what else could it have been but genuine anger directed at her?

Why she had found it so easy to believe that rather than all his declarations, she did not know. It was just that when he had said that he had…loved her (even the memory of the words made her heart skip a beat)…she had been afraid—more so than she had ever been in her entire life.

Just why she had been so scared, she wasn't entirely sure. She had tried to put it into words—tried to explain just what she was feeling—but the words had tumbled out in a jumbled mess.

She had tried and tried to say that she was scared that, no matter how much either of them cared for the other, that they might end up growing to hate one another. It was inevitable. They would argue or…something would happen—the love would end, the feelings would change, and what was once so precious to both of them would be gone forever.

She was realistic to understand that they wouldn't always see eye to eye and wasn't naïve enough to think that no marriage would always be sunshine and roses…but still….

It may have been childish if not naïve or foolish, but she never wanted to think of a time when she did not love him. Or…worse yet…when he didn't love her.

But here it was—the very day she had feared brought about by her own stupidity.

She moved over to the bed, sank down on the mattress and began idly tracing the stitching on the bedspread. She tried to convince herself that this was for the best—ending before it had truly begun. At least the degeneration had already occurred, and she wouldn't have to suffer the loss little by little. After all, she knew from medicine that swift, clean breaks were the easiest to heal.

But as the ache in her chest intensified, it didn't feel at all capable of healing.

She flopped gracelessly down upon the mattress and lay on her back looking up at the ceiling.

What an idiot she'd been! It was twice in three days that she'd said something foolish and cruel to him. First at the inn in Chesedonia and then today at Carmina Gaedelica; both times she had only pushed him away. And why?

When it came down to it, she couldn't really think of a single quantifiable reason. All she could come up with was the fearful ache which had twisted her heart in both those instances. She had tried to hide the fear…and longing behind strong words—as she always did when she was scared, but the words ended up being not strong but harsh.

Just what was she so scared of?

She tried to sort through all the possibilities. Was she scared that he might leave her? She shook her head. No. He wouldn't do that. Was she scared of how…intense their relationship might be? She'd be the first to admit that she blushed at the thought, but, no, it didn't scare her.

Maybe, it was much simpler than that. Maybe she was just scared, not of him, but of love itself.

When she thought back, she couldn't ever remember telling him that she _loved_ him. Of course, she'd told him that she _cared for_ him, but she realized with a start that she had consciously avoided saying the word "love".

His angry protest from earlier that day floated back to her mind.

_Because I love you dammit! Not "like" or "care for"—"love!"_

Her heart constricted painfully at the memory. He had told her he loved her, but she had never said the words herself. Each time she had hidden behind reciprocations and repetitions—behind "so do I"s and "I feel the same way"s. She had never once, independently told him that she _loved_ him.

The realization hit her harder than she thought it would. No wonder he had doubted her sincerity. But more so than that, it hurt her that she had never told him. He had said the words so many times but had never gotten to hear them from her. Not even once.

How it must have hurt him.

She shut her eyes tightly, trying to drown the thoughts in soothing darkness.

Why was she so afraid?

For a moment, she had the irrational thought that she was afraid to commit to someone because of what it might mean for her country, but she quickly dismissed it. After all, she was far too selfish for such a noble notion. In this whole time, she had never really thought of anyone but herself. It was always how scared _she_ was or how hurt _she'd_ be.

Her heart constricted in another painful spasm.

The only time she had ever thought about him was when she'd thought how hurt _he'd_ be when he found out she'd accepted the Emperor's proposal. The thought had been fleeting, but had lasted long enough for her to say "yes" when asked. That she had even thought such a selfish, spiteful thing made her sick now.

She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest as though that might steady her.

The moment "yes" had left her mouth she had regretted it—wanted to snatch it back, but her pride prevented her from simply saying she was mistaken—that it wasn't what she wished. And then, of course, as if reading her mind, Jade had to mention "regret". The instant he had said the word a sick feeling had washed over her, and she had found herself incapable of responding.

Of course she regretted it. Not only because she had accepted out of spite, but also because she knew how much it would truly hurt Guy.

That alone had made her want to set things right—to tell the truth, to say that, no, she did not wish to marry the Emperor. If only she could take her words back—have a second chance she would not waste it. But as things stood, she had used up her second chance this afternoon at the manor. He had asked her once in the garden, and she had refused, hiding behind some pitiful excuse about her duty. And, he had asked her again today, and she had, yet again, hidden behind some pathetic excuse about being afraid. A third chance was unlikely.

Her heart sank. Besides, she was engaged now. It was even more unlikely that he'd come back for her now.

She hugged her knees closer and rested her head on them as tears slipped out the corners of her eyes.

She had been an idiot, and now they were both paying the price.

After a long moment, she loosened her grip a little and fished out her pendant from inside her dress. She had forgotten about it until the metal had started to bite into her flesh from being caught between her leg and her chest. She held it in her hand and studied it for a moment.

"What would you do?" she asked the small stone. "Or rather, what should _I_ do?"

Only silence filled the room.

She sighed and let the pendant fall from her hand.

"What was I expecting?" she murmured to herself. "A stone can't give me any answers."

She glanced out the window at star filled sky.

"I don't suppose you could give me a sign," she said to no one in particular.

She waited. But again there was only silence.

Of course not. After all, wishes were foolish things that never came true. And even if they did, they'd probably end up going wrong anyway. Especially if she was involved.

She laid back down upon the bed and closed her eyes. There seemed to be nothing else she could do. Maybe in the morning she might think of something. For now, she would just sleep.

Quickly she drifted off into merciful darkness, never hearing the knock that sounded at her door.

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Guy knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. Still no response.

He frowned. She wasn't in the party hall, so he had assumed she would be here. Well, if not assumed, he had at least hoped. If she had taken to wandering around, it would be difficult to track her down. The palace was huge to say the least, and there was nothing to say that she'd even be in the palace.

A shiver ran down his spine. Although it seemed peaceful on the surface, Grand Chokmah could certainly be dangerous enough at night. He prayed that she wasn't in the city.

He turned his attention back to the door in front of him. She might still be in her room. Maybe she was simply asleep or taking a bath and didn't hear him knocking. He tested the doorknob. It turned easily in his hand—unlocked. She'd probably have locked the door if she had left. Since the door was unlocked, however, it would be easy enough to check and see if she was there (though he worried that he might walk in on her when she was getting out of the bath).

Still, he had said he would talk with her, and he wasn't going to run.

"Better make sure she's not here," he said to no one in particular as he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him and glanced around the room. On the other side, the long, sheer curtains flapped in the breeze from the open balcony doors and the rest of the room was dark. Instantly, he was reminded of the other night in Chesedonia when she had gone missing.

Another chill. He started instinctively for the window but stopped instead in the middle of the room when he noticed a small form shift its position in the center of the bed. He looked closer.

There she was short blond hair splayed across the pillow, eyes closed, making quiet breathing noises and looking so absolutely damned beautiful that, for a moment, his heart stopped.

He started towards her, pulling off the rappig mask as he walked. After all, the thing would probably frighten her if she woke suddenly. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, careful not to wake her but could not resist the urge to trail his fingers through her hair. His hand moved down to trace the curve of her face.

She, however, was a light sleeper and shifted under his cautious touch. As her eyes fluttered open, his heart flip-flopped in his chest, and he dimly wondered if this was how it would feel to wake up beside her every morning.

It seemed to take her a moment to realize that someone else was there with her. She turned to face him and blinked blearily a couple times but did not scream. She stared for a moment before mumbling, "A dream," and closing her eyes again.

He watched her, a bit surprised, maybe even amused by her reaction. She kept her eyes closed for several minutes, and, at first he thought she had fallen asleep again. But then, she opened her eyes again and continued to stare, visibly confused.

He couldn't resist. Leaning down he placed a feather-light kiss to her forehead.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," he murmured.

A faint blush painted her face. "Now I _know_ I'm dreaming," she muttered when he pulled away.

He laughed. "And what makes you think that?"

She hesitated for a long moment. "Because you're here with me."

The disbelief evident in her words stung…terribly, and, for a moment, he felt overcome by weakness—so much so that he couldn't respond.

"I—I'm always here with you," he said quietly, cupping her face gently in his palm, "and I always will be."

For a long moment she did not respond, then, to his surprise, she began to cry.

"Stop it," she said at last, moving her face away from his hand and squeezing her eyes shut and forcing tears out of the corners, "stop it. This dream is far too cruel."

"Why won't you believe me?" leaning close enough to rest his forehead against hers. "I'm here with you."

"You can't be!" she said, fists on his shoulders, trying to push him away, "because you—he—said he never wanted to see me again. He wouldn't be here—!"

Her words died away into a pained sound that knifed at his heart. He forced her hands away from his chest, pinning them to her sides when she refused to stop struggling and leaning down, pressed a desperate kiss to her lips, silencing her protests.

She struggled for several moments before falling quiet and relaxing in his arms. After a long moment, he broke the kiss and let his head rest alongside hers. Her chest heaved brokenly against his, and she pulled one of her hands free and cautiously embraced him.

"You're really here, aren't you?" she asked at last. "I didn't think—I mean…you—"

He kissed her cheek, causing her to trail off mid-sentence. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "I shouldn't have…I didn't mean…." He nuzzled against her neck, eliciting a moan. She arched her back slightly, pressing closer against him.

He moved to pull back slightly but she held him to her.

"How could I even say such a thing?" he mumbled into her pillow. "And how could you believe it so quickly, after all the times I told you I loved you—how could you ever believe that I didn't?" He slipped an arm beneath her and pulled her closer to him. "One argument and you were going to leave me forever because I said a careless thing." He brushed his lips over her cheek. "How could you ever believe that I didn't need you?"

For several long moments she struggled to speak. "How can you still say that—that you…love me after everything I've said…after everything I've done to you?"

He kissed her again. "How could I not?"

Tears trailed down her face. "I don't deserve this…deserve you…."

"Of course you do," he reassured her.

Her lower lip trembled, and he brushed his lips teasingly against hers.

She shook her head as though to clear it before trying to push him away again. "We can't do this," she said, trying to slip out from his embrace. "I'm engaged, remember?"

At this, he laughed, clearly surprising her. After a moment, he leaned forward and whispered to her, "No you're not."

She blinked several times. "…_What?_"

He smiled at her. "You're. Not. Engaged. A certain scheming Colonel we both know told me that a proposal from an Emperor is not official unless he does it himself _and_ it is witness by others."

"So you mean…what I agreed to earlier…"

"Was not a proposal," he said, grinning. "So, you're not engaged."

This time, she stared. "This has to be a dream," she said at last.

He ruffled her hair affectionately. "That again?"

"Everything's working out too perfectly," she said, snuggling closer. "You came back for me, I'm not engaged, and…" she hesitated for a second. "There's only one thing missing."

He blinked a couple times. "Oh? And what is that?"

"A certain confession," she said. Quickly, she reached up and, wrapping her arms around him, pulled him down into a kiss. When they separated, he sat up, surprised, and stared.

She adjusted her position so that she could sit up as well. For a long moment, she studied his features as though trying to memorize them. Raising her hand, she trailed her fingertips lightly across his forehead, over his eyelids and down the bridge of his nose before letting them come to rest on his lips.

She took a deep breath as though to steady herself.

"I love you," she breathed at last.

His vivid blue eyes widened in shock, as though he had not expected to hear those words from her. He took hold of her hand, clasping it in his own.

"You…love me?"

She nodded slowly, wrapping her fingers around his. "Yes. I love you. I know…I've never said it until now. I only wish I'd said it sooner." She looked away, her grip loosening momentarily. "I regret so many things: stubbornness, pride, spite, but that I regret most of all—that I didn't tell you every day how much I loved you—or even that I did."

"You're telling me now," he said quietly.

"And from now on, I'll tell you everyday, even if you don't want to hear it!"

He cupped her face in both his hands, trailing a thumb over her cheekbone. "And why wouldn't I want to hear it? Hearing it everyday is something I'd only wished for before." She looked up at him, eyes wide. He leaned forward, kissing her again. "And as for me, I'm going to tell you that I love you until you beg me to stop."

Tears filled her eyes again.

"Oh no," he murmured, thumbing away her tears. "I've said it before…a smile suits you much better."

She stared for a long moment. "Those…words," she stammered. "How do you…?"

He pulled back slightly, a worried look crossing his face. "Yeah," he said, "about that…"

"Come to think of it," she said, studying him carefully, "why are you wearing the Emperor's cape?"

He laughed nervously.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Guy...is there something you're not telling me."

"Maybe," he smiled cryptically.

"Guy."

"All right, all right," he sighed, running a hand tiredly through his hair. He remained silent for a long moment. At last he said, "You remember the party the other night…when you danced with the Emperor?"

She stared. "How did you…?"

He didn't say anything at first. Instead, he reached forward, took hold of her hand and absently stroked it. "I know," he said at last, "because…the person you danced with…it wasn't the Emperor…it was me."

He wasn't sure exactly what reaction to expect from her. He supposed she'd be surprised at the very least, angry at the very worst, so when she only stared in silence for several long moments, he wasn't certain what to think.

At long last, she asked quietly, "You? It was…you?"

He could only nod and tighten his grip on her hand.

Again, she stared. He looked away, fearing the worst, when suddenly she burst out, "Oh thank Lorelei!"

He turned to her, surprised, but she caught him off guard when she sprung forward and wrapped her arms tightly about his shoulders.

"Oh thank Lorelei," she whispered into his shoulder, "I'm so glad."

"Glad?" he asked, returning her gesture and slipping his arms around her. "I thought you'd be angry…at being tricked."

"I am…a little," she admitted quietly, "but more than that, I'm glad—because for a little while, I was worried that I might be attracted to His Majesty." She laughed. "But, if it was you the entire time..." She gave a relieved sigh. "Oh thank Lorelei."

"Thank Lorelei indeed," he laughed. "I was worried that I would get slapped again."

She looked away, blushing furiously. "I—I'm so sorry about that! I didn't mean—!"

"I know. I know. You don't need to apologize."

"You're so good to me," she sighed into his shoulder. "I just wish there was some way to thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "I'm just happy that we're here together and…that you're not engaged." He hesitated for a moment before pulling away slightly so he could look her in the eyes. "There's only one way I could be happier," he said at last.

"And what is that?" she asked quietly.

"If you were engaged to me."

Her eyes widened at the words. "Are you…proposing?" she asked cautiously, as though afraid she might be mistaken.

"I suppose I am," he murmured.

"Really?"

"Really."

She hesitated again. "Seriously?"

He laughed and reached into his pocket. "Seriously. And I even have the ring to prove it." He opened the bag and dropped the ring into his palm, holding it would for her to see.

Her eyes widened when she saw the bag. "Guy…that ring…."

"I know," he admitted quietly, "I didn't have time to buy a ring because I came here as soon as I found out about the loophole and that—you weren't engaged. Luke gave it to me. Said we needed it more than he and Tear did."

"You came right away?" she asked, still focused on the first part of his statement.

"Yes," he said, clutching the ring tightly in his palm, "because I didn't want to take the chance that something would happen while I was gone—I didn't want…to risk losing you again."

"It was my fault."

He shook his head. "It was mine as well. I shouldn't have told you leave."

She looked away. "I shouldn't have pushed you away in the first place. I was scared."

"So was I," he said, "but when it came right down to it, I was more worried that I wouldn't get a second chance at this."

"So was I," she admitted.

"But here we are, again. We were lucky enough to get a second chance."

"But…I don't deserve it after everything I've done."

"No one ever feels that they do," he said simply. "All that matters right now is that we have this second chance." He fell silent for a moment. "I've never told you how much you mean to me, have I?"

"You told me you loved me," she said, blushing, "but until now, I never knew how much."

"Neither did I," he mused, reaching up with his free hand and trailing his fingers along the side of her face. "I want to tell you, but I can't find any words. So, all I can do is promise you—promise you that I will never leave you—never abandon you. I will remain beside you, supporting you always. And I will do everything in power to ensure your happiness—even if it costs me my life."

"No!"

He pulled back a little, surprised by her outburst.

"No," she said, a little quieter this time. "Don't say that you'd throw your life away so casually," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Don't you dare do such a thing? Don't you know how much it would hurt me if something were to happen to you?!"

A broken sob escaped her, and he pulled her closer, trying to calm her. The ring fell from his hand, rolling along the floor and coming to a rest a short distance away.

"I don't care about my happiness," she said, her words muffled by his shoulder, "if it means that I have to lose you to find it. In that case, I'd rather be unhappy all my life if it means you'd stay with me." She fell silent for a moment. "If you're going to promise me something, promise me that you won't leave me like that, and that if we have to be apart, that you'll do everything in your power to return to me."

"Of course," he said, "so long as you promise me that you won't try to take every burden upon yourself. I'm here to help you, you know."

"As am I here for you," she said, sitting up. "From now on, whatever comes our way, we'll face it together."

He smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

To his relief, a smile blossomed across her face. "Thank you," she whispered, her blush intensifying.

"So then," he said, "I suppose I should make this official. Now where did that ring go?" He glanced around, spotting it near the fountain. Standing, he walked over and picked it up, letting it rest momentarily in his hand before turning back to her.

She flushed crimson all the way to her hairline and, for a moment, seemed utterly incapable of speech.

He moved over to her and made a motion to kneel, but she stood suddenly, and began tugging on his arm as though trying to help him to his feet.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frozen somewhere between standing and kneeling.

She looked away, avoiding his eyes. "Wait," she said, "please don't kneel."

"Why not?" he asked, concern tingeing his voice.

"Because," she said, helping him back to his feet, "you are my equal. Remember? Whatever happens we'll face it together? From now on, we stand _beside_ each other."

He smiled at her. "We always have," he said quietly, kneeling at her feet, "but still, for this, I'll kneel. It is custom after all."

Before she could protest farther, he took hold of her left hand and slipped the ring onto her ring finger. Her small hand trembled in his.

"Natalia, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

It took her a moment to respond, but then she knelt beside him, leaned over and kissed him full on the lips.

"I take it that's a yes?" he asked breathlessly when she pulled away.

She simply smiled and kissed him again.

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**Author's Note:**

Ah, fluff and corny dialogue abound in this part, lol! Of the entire story, this was probably the most difficult part to write because I kept trying to make it perfect. I wrote so many outlines of the piece, and it still turned out way differently than I ever imagined. Still, I'm happy with it (especially because of the fluff)!

Anyway, after this there'll be two more chapters: one story chapter that will tie up most of the loose ends and an epilogue. So, until then!


	24. Celebration

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Sorry about the insane delay. Life really got in the way this time. Anyway, here is the last actual chapter. There will be an epilogue along with some author's notes. That should be coming out soon, around the beginning of next month about.

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_The Party on the Third Night_

Tear carefully sipped her wine as she glanced around the party hall. Large numbers of guests teemed on the dance floor, and she, like those who wished to avoid that chaos had chosen to mill about in the general vicinity of the buffet. After all, if she was where the food was, she was certain to spot Luke when he finally emerged from the crowd.

She frowned at her glass.

As of yet he had not once addressed the issue of that mysterious ring. And though she was fairly certain of what—or rather _who_ it was meant for, she still wanted to hear it from his own mouth.

She glanced out a distant window; a large, brilliant moon hung in the sky. Not one mention in nearly twenty-four hours.

She frowned again.

But, of course, there hadn't been much time for them to discuss much of anything this morning. The entire morning had passed by in a blur of congratulations for their newly-engaged friends.

Engaged.

She thought again of the ring and of Luke's not addressing the subject since the previous night at the manor. He had been right then—Guy and Natalia had needed it more than she and Luke did. And she was happy for her friends. But, she couldn't help glancing down at her own, ringless, left hand.

Loud, raucous laughter from the direction of the buffet, breaking her train of thought. Looking up, she noticed two visibly drunk men, both Kimlascan nobles who had probably accompanied some unfortunate women to the party, stumble over to the buffet. Both carried bottles of wine that they had, in all likelihood, stolen from the bar and were taking clumsy swigs from them, the excess liquid dribbling down their chins and onto their jackets.

Several other party-goers lingering nearby moved away discretely under pretense of heading to the dance floor under pretense of finding their partners or of dancing with whomever was standing closest to them. Tear glanced back at the dance floor and even thought momentarily of heading out there to find Luke who had vanished into the throng along Guy whom she assumed needed his friend's help with something, but the thought of dealing with the crowds did not appeal to her in the least. So, she did the only thing she could think of: she slowly moved away and tried to remain inconspicuous.

As she inched away, however, a giggling woman standing nearby took a teasing step away from the man who was flirting with her. Unfortunately, this sent her on a collision course for Tear who was not paying attention to the movements of nearby people. She bumped into Tear, catching her off-guard and causing her to spill her wine all over the front of her clothes.

The woman turned her to her, apologizing profusely. Tear waved her off, saying it was all right. Frankly, she was grateful that she hadn't given into Luke's earlier pleading and worn the lavish and, undoubtedly expensive silk gown that he had picked out for her. Instead, she had stood her ground and worn her usual Order of Lorelei uniform. At least it was dark-colored so that the wine stain wouldn't show up too obviously.

"I'm glad your clothes aren't ruined, dear," the woman said with a relieved smile.

"I'll be fine," Tear assured her.

The woman smiled again and gave a quick curtsy before heading off to the dance floor with her partner. Tear watched them as they walked away.

She thought back to the drunkards who were still loitering near the table, reminding herself that not all nobles were like them. There were some that like Peony, Guy, Natalia, and Lady Susanne who were honestly good and kind. And Luke was one of them.

Warm pride briefly flared in her heart. It didn't matter to her that he was the son of a Duke or that he was potentially in line for the throne of Kimlasca. In fact, that sort of thing had never mattered to her at all—had never once influenced the way she had felt about him. Whether she worried for him, was annoyed at him or loved him—it was all genuine. And even when they had been at odds with each other in the beginning, even his feelings were likely genuine. She remembered what he had said in the manor the other day when he had told her briefly of the three years before their reunion at Tataroo Valley.

_Because…even when I couldn't remember her name or her face, I knew without a doubt that she was worth it! That…whatever I had to go through, whatever I had to sacrifice to return to her—I knew that I'd rather give everything else up than live without her!_

Her face flushed at the memory, and she brought her free hand up to instinctively hide her blush. When she was finally calm again her hand slid from her face to rest at her side. As it did she glanced down at it once again, a small smiled tugging at the corners of her lips. Ring or no ring, she knew he loved her, and that was more than enough.

"Hey! You, wench!"

A voice broke into her train of thoughts, and instantly the blush was gone, replaced by her practice frown. Those drunk nobles were harassing someone now, probably some poor girl who couldn't defend herself. Tear sighed, turned and ran smack dab into one of the men who, apparently, had been headed for her. She set herself firmly, adopting a stance that would allow her to take whatever action was necessary—whether defensive or offensive. For a moment, she found herself wishing that she had at least brought her throwing knives, but, at Luke's request, she had left them behind at the inn. Still, judging from the mens' level of intoxication, she wouldn't need any weapons to fight them. But, in the back of her mind, a voice—oddly enough, Luke's—reminded her that it was always better to try for the non-violent approach first.

But these men were trying her patience.

"Hey yous, soldier," slurred drunkard number one. "Whater yous doin' here?"

Drunkard number two hiccuped. "Yeas, dun yous know this party's only for ush nobles? Yous ain't got no right to be here."

Her frown deepened into a scowl. "I was invited," she said firmly.

The taller man seemed to consider this for a moment—well, at least as seriously as a drunk can consider anything. "And whos invited you?"

Tear opened her mouth to respond but was cut off when someone else said, "I did."

Luke stepped forward from the crowd and stood beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You okay?" he asked her quietly.

"Yes," she said, "dealing with drunks is just…" she pinched the bridge of her nose as though to ward off an oncoming headache, "irritating."

Luke gave a quick laugh. "As 'irritating' as I used to be?"

"No," she said with a smile, "you used to be worse."

He pretended to scowl. "I should have known you'd say that."

She simply smiled again.

"And just who are you?" demanded the shorter drunk, gesturing in Luke's general direction.

Luke turned his attention back to the two nobles. "I am Luke fon Fabre, son of Duke Fabre of Kimlasca, and this woman," he turned back to Tear, "if she wishes, shall soon become a member of my family." He paused, blushing for a moment. "And so, if you insult her, you insult me and my family."

"Not to mention the Kimlascan throne," added another voice.

Tear turned to find that Natalia and Guy had emerged from the crowd and now stood beside her and Luke.

"And, the Malkuth nobility," added Jade as he too stepped forward, Anise trailing along behind him.

"Malkuth nobility?" asked the taller drunk, seemingly more alert now that he was confronted by a larger group of people.

Jade merely smiled his sweet, threatening smile. "Oh yes. Her Highness has already said that, if you insult House Fabre, you also insult the Kimlascan throne. And, as Her Highness is marrying a Malkuth noble, you, in turn, would be insulting Malkuth nobility."

The threat did not seem to faze the two nobles, so much so as the news delivered via the threat.

The shorter man turned desperately to the princess. "Marriage, Your Highness? To a Malkuth noble?"

"Is there something wrong with that?" she demanded. "Our two countries are at peace now. I intend to keep it that way, and I'm sure His Majesty will do everything in his power as well."

"But, Your Highness," the tall man cut in, "there's been no…" he seemed to struggle to find a word, "news about any…decision."

Mercifully, Jade answered instead. "The proceedings were carried out in secret," he said, "away from the public eye, as it was predicted that there would be some…objections to such a union." He faked a sigh. "But now that a decision has been reached, arrangements have been made and the banns will be posted tomorrow morning."

The short man nearly fainted. "Banns? So, it's…official?"

Anise grinned wickedly. "You're not _that_ drunk, if that's what you mean."

Seemingly sobered by the sudden news, both men exchanged nervous glances. At last, the shorter one dared to speak.

"So…if I may ask…Your Highness," he stammered, "…who are you marrying?"

At first, her only response was to blush and look away. She glanced from one friend to the next, before turning back to the two men.

"I…"

"She's marrying Duke Gardios," said someone behind the group.

Everyone turned. Tear nearly dropped the glass she had been holding.

Guy stared for a long moment. "Your Majesty!" he exclaimed, the others mimicking his startled shout.

At this, the Emperor simply grinned. "Yo!"

"W-what are you doing here?" Luke stammered.

"Is it so strange for me to be here in my own palace?" he asked innocently.

"N-no," Luke admitted after a pause. "It's just—"

"…that I'd heard you weren't even in the city," Guy finished for him.

The Emperor turned to him, smiling. "And where did you hear that, Duke Gardios?"

"Jade mentioned it offhand and…wait a minute." He paused. "Your Majesty…"

He trailed off, letting his silence ask the question.

The Emperor, seemingly unfazed, smiled. "Yes, _Duke_ Gardios?" he asked again, placing emphasis on the title.

Guy fell silent, caught somewhere between confusion and tact. He glanced helplessly to the others but all were as shocked as he was—except for Jade who was his normal, composed self.

"At any rate," Jade said, turning to address the two men, "your question has been answered. So, I suggest you take your leave now."

The tall man simmered. "And what gives you the right—!"

"Enough!" Natalia snapped. "Your presence in such a state disrespects not only me but His Majesty as well!"

"But…Your Highness," the shorter man began rather meekly.

She fixed him with a glare. "You will both leave. Now. Before you embarrass me any further."

Both men fell silent, then glanced back at each member of the group before slinking away sullenly.

Guy watched them go in silence.

"Are you sure you should have been so…harsh?" he asked the Princess who stood beside him.

She frowned momentarily. "Sometimes you have to be," she said at last, "or they'll never learn. They'll only become more and more disrespectful and…" her words trailed off into silence. "Let's just say that being too kind, might eventually do more harm than good."

It was his turn to frown.

"Please, don't give me that look," she sighed. "I know it sounds cruel, but, you can't forget that as nobles, it is our job to set a good example—to represent our respective countries so to speak. And, as much as I am loathe to say it, the behavior of those men reflects on Kimlasca, and, in their current state, it reflects negatively." She paused momentarily. "Not only might such unbecoming conduct lead to worse conduct on their parts if it is not corrected, but it might also lead to a loss of respect for the country that they represent. In the long run, it might even lead to other, more terrible consequences, and it is my duty to protect my country from such consequences." Despite the seriousness of the topic, a slight smile crossed her face as she turned to look at him. "Just as it will soon be yours."

"What? Me?" he asked startled.

"Of course," she said matter-of-factly. "You _are_ marrying the heir to the throne after all. It's only natural that, when I 'inherit' the throne from my father—though, technically, _you'll_ be doing the inheriting—_you_ will become king."

"King?" he burst out, drawing stares from his friends.

She sighed again. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

"N-no," he said, tugging nervously at his collar, "I knew. It's just—I never really thought that much about it."

"When courting the crown princess," she said, with a smile, "that's the first thing most people would think about."

"I guess I'm not like 'most people'," he replied, returning her smile.

Her smile widened into a grin. "That, you're most certainly not."

She leaned towards him and pecked him chastely on the cheek. 

"That's all I get?" he laughed when she pulled away.

"Time and place," she grinned. "We have to set an example, remember?"

"Is that so?" he asked with a devilish grin. "In that case…"

He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear to which she responded by flushing bright red. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words came out. Instead, she tried her best to glare, but it only came out as an embarassed stare.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump slightly. "Don't worry," he said, "I'll be good 'til then. After that, though…"

If she had been red before, she was positively crimson now.

Mercifully, Anise broke in before she could respond. "All right, break it up!" Anise pouted. "Enough with the mush, you two. No need to rub your wonderful happiness in us poor, single peoples' faces."

"Jealous much, Anise?" Natalia asked when she regained some of her composure.

"YES! First Luke and Tear and now you two! Agh! I'm the only one left!"

Natalia shrugged. "There's always Jade."

"He doesn't count," Anise replied immediately.

"Oh, I'm so hurt," Jade replied blithely in the background.

"Or what about Florian?" Tear suggested cautiously.

Anise cringed, then said, "He doesn't count either."

"Poor guy," Luke sighed.

"What about His Majesty?" Guy offered.

Anise considered this for a moment.

"Sorry, kiddo," Peony said quickly, "I'm single, and I plan to stay that way. No offense, Princess."

"None taken," Natalia replied.

Anise gave a heaving sigh. "There's no one left!"

"Well," Tear suggested, "why don't you try meeting someone here? This party's full of nobles."

"I did already," she admitted quickly. "But the only person who'd even talk to me was this weird guy who was crying bloody murder about your old engagement to the Emperor."

Peony turned to Jade. "Engaged?" he asked, "I was engaged?"

Jade shrugged. "Supposedly."

"Wait a second," Natalia cut in, "…a 'weird guy'?"

Anise nodded. "Yep." She glanced around. "But don't worry. I don't see him around here. After all, the Colonel gave him hell."

Natalia turned to Jade, ignoring Anise's attempt at a joke. "Was it…?"

He nodded curtly. "Yes. But he was only being a nuisance. Nothing more." Jade shrugged again. "At any rate, he's gone now."

Natalia couldn't suppress a grin. "You didn't do anything…violent, I hope."

"Just the usual."

"I see."

"Anyway," Guy said, "who are we all talking about?"

"Just Alpine's son," Natalia said with a dismissive gesture. "I ran into him the other night."

Guy laughed. "So he actually made it here?"

"I guess Alpine finished his 'state business'," Natalia quipped.

Guy glanced off into the crowd. "Still…"

"It bothers you? That he was complaining?"

"Kind of," he admitted. He glanced away when she frowned. "It's just that…if he was concerned about your marrying the Emperor, what would he say about your marrying me? Even though I'm a Count now, I was once a servant. I mean…"

"It doesn't matter what he…or anyone else thinks," she said quickly. She moved so she could face him. "We chose each other. That's all there is to it."

Her words should have comforted him, but he couldn't bring himself to smile. "But…"

"Are you regretting this?" she asked without looking at him.

His response was immediate. "Of course not! It's just," he looked away, "I want to be worthy of you."

"You are," she said firmly.

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he said. "I mean...our situation is…extraordinary to say the least. Under normal circumstances, a Princess would not marry a Count. She would, in all likelihood, marry a Duke or someone who would eventually inherit the title."

"You're worried about your title?" she asked, confused.

"I—no, I don't think so," he said, "I…I can't explain exactly _what_ I'm worried about."

"Neither can I," a familiar voice cut in. The duo turned to find the Emperor standing behind them. "But, I think I can help you."

"What do you mean, Your Majesty?" Guy asked, puzzled.

"About your title," Peony replied as he handed Guy a scroll. "This is part of the reason I was away from Grand Chokmah these past few days."

Natalia raised an eyebrow. "And the other part?"

Peony grinned. "Oh nothing, I just went to see…someone special."

Natalia smiled. "You mean Lady Nephry."

The Emperor did not respond; he only smiled vaguely.

"At any rate," Jade said somewhat stiffly, "I believe that document will interest you more than His Majesty's travels. Am I right, Guy?"

The swordsman did not respond. Everyone turned to him, only to find him staring in disbelief at the paper.

"What is it?" Natalia asked, concerned.

Guy mutely handed her the paper. She took it and began to read.

"Gailardia Galan Gardios, this letter has been written to inform you that your rightful title of Duke Gardios has been restored through the intervention of Emperor Peony the Ninth of the Malkuth Empire, King Ingobert the Sixth of Kimlasca and Acting Grand Maestro Tritheim of the Order of Lorelei all of whom have contributed funds to restore your rightful inheritance…" she looked up, stunned. "What is…?"

"That?" the Emperor smiled, "only a little something for an old friend." His smile widened into a grin. "Just consider it…a wedding gift of sorts."

"But…why…how, Your Majesty?" Guy asked after a long silence. "I thought…my true title…"

"Was that of 'Count'?" the Emperor asked.

"Well…yes," the swordsman answered.

"And that's where you're mistaken," Jade said, stepping in.

"What…?"

Jade readjusted his glasses and gave a long-suffering sigh. "Honestly, you haven't put it together yet?" Guy did not respond; he only waited for Jade to continue. Jade sighed again and said, "How I loathe explaining things, but, in this case, I suppose it can't be helped. At any rate, Guy, your father was a Duke not a Count. Hod was the site of Yulia's grave as well as one of the premier fomicry projects in all Malkuth. The island was of great importance to Malkuth; it only makes sense that the ruler of that island would be someone of high rank—most likely someone the Emperor could trust. In other words…"

"One of his blood relatives," Natalia finished. "Meaning…he would, in all likelihood…be a Duke…" She looked back to Jade. "Then why…?"

"Was he made a Count and not a Duke?" Jade asked, finishing her question for her. "Because, when Hod was destroyed, he lost his entire inheritance—land…money…everything. Without his fortune, it would have been difficult for him to claim any title higher than Viscount. It was only because of his role in the lowering of the lands that the Council approved granting him the title of Count. But, now that he is in possesion of a fortune befitting a Duke, he can easily reclaim his true title."

Natalia glanced from Jade to Guy, waiting for a response from the blond swordsman.

After a long moment, he looked up, eyes misted, struggling valiantly to keep his composure. "Your Majesty," he said at last, "I…you…thank you…it's nowhere near enough…but…it's all I can say…I—" He broke off into a strangled sound and turned away quickly. After a long moment, he turned back, slightly more composed than before. When he opened his mouth to speak, but the Emperor cut him off.

"No need to thank us, Gailardia," Peony announced. "We're only giving you what you rightly deserve. And you still have to walk the rappigs…whenever you're in town, that is."

"O-of course, Your Majesty," he said, his voice catching slightly.

Peony grinned from ear to ear. "Well then, in that case, I'll take my leave now."

This caught Anise's attention. "But Your Majesty," she said, "you have to dance at least one dance at your own party!"

This started a debate between Anise and the Emperor as to whether or not it was impolite not to dance at one's own party. Jade simply turned away to watch. Luke and Tear seemed be engrossed in their own conversation.

"A…Duke?" Guy murmured to himself.

Natalia smiled. "I'm happy for you," she said quietly.

He remained silent for a moment. "I'm so happy at this moment—happier than I'd ever thought I would be. And there's only one way I could be happier."

She blinked a couple times. "And what would that be?"

He couldn't help smiling at her. "Do you…really need to ask?"

She smiled. "No, of course not," she murmured.

They fell silent for a long moment. In the other corner, Luke laughed loudly. About what, she did not know, but Tear appeared to be smiling as well, so she assumed it was funny.

Natalia glanced down guiltily at the ring on her finger before glancing back to her two friends. Guy followed her gaze, realizing what she was thinking when he too saw the ring.

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We can always get another one," he agreed.

She glanced back to their friends before slipping the ring off her finger. "After all, they need it more than we do," she grinned as she passed him the ring.

"That they do," he agreed as he turned to head over to his friend.

"Luke!"

The redhead in question looked up at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"

Guy grinned as he tossed the ring in his friend's direction. "Catch!"

Luke caught the small object easily and turned it over several times in the palm of his hand. "What is—?" He looked up to his friend for an explanation, but Guy had already disappeared into the crowd, and Natalia had gone along with him. Luke glanced helplessly to Jade and Anise, both of whom shrugged, before looking back to Tear who still stood beside him.

She too looked down at the ring in his hand. "Luke…is that…?"

Despite himself, his face flushed red. "Umm…let's talk about this-"

"Now?" she suggested.

"I was going to say 'outside'," he said innocently.

She couldn't help smiling. "Outside would be fine."

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Luke settled down on one of the benches in the plaza out front the palace. Tear sat beside him. A comfortable silence settled between them.

"About…what happened back there…" Tear began after a long moment.

Luke sighed. "I'm sorry. If I'd know that'd happen, I would've stayed with you."

"That's…not what I was talking about," she said.

He stared for a moment, his face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. "A-about that…"

"Yes."

The word was so sudden and unexpected, that, for a moment, all he could do was stare, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Y-yes?" he asked cautiously, hopefully when he regained the ability to speak.

She nodded, blushing. "Earlier…you said that…if I wished it I…would become a member of your family." She paused. "If that means what I think it means…then my answer…is yes. I…wish it."

He looked down to the ring which he still held in his palm. "You…you mean…?"

Gently, she folded his fingers closed over the ring. "I don't need a ring," she said quietly, "your word is enough for me."

For a moment, he was at a loss for words. At last he said, "If you say so," while slipping the ring onto her finger anyway. Looking down, at her hand, she smiled.

"Idiot," she murmured as he caught her lips in a kiss.

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**Author's Note:**

Again, sorry this part was so late. It was really hard to write this because I wasn't sure what to include. And sorry to all the Luke x Tear fans if the proposal scene seemed disappointing. They were already together so there wasn't too much to resolve. Anyway, the get all of "The Second Hand of Fate" to themselves.

Saa…I can't believe this fic is almost finished. One more chapter and it's done. As sad as I am to see it go, I'm also excited about writing other stories. At any rate, I'm going to finish this fic. So, see you in the next and last chapter. Until then!


	25. Epilogue: Lost and Found

**And the Clock Struck Twelve**

**By seraphimstarlight**

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters.

Author's Note: All right. It took me over a month to get this part done, but, here it is! The Epilogue of And the Clock Struck Twelve! This is dedicated to all the readers who have supported this fic through thick and thin. It's because of you that I was able to finish this! Thank you so much for making this fic the success it was!

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_Some months later_

Guy slumped down wearily on the garden bench and sighed, thoroughly relieved. To tell the truth, he was grateful to have escaped with his sanity intact. Honestly, he hadn't thought it would be this bad.

The ceremony had ended so suddenly that, before he was even aware, the vows had been taken, the blushing bride had been kissed and the happy couple had been ushered out the doors.

Both had breathed a sigh of relief that, after so many months of planning and rehearsal the ceremony was _finally_ over. At last, they could finally relax.

She had moved to slip her heels off, all the while debating whether or not wearing heels during such a long ceremony constituted torture to which he had replied that the ceremony had gone by relatively quickly to which _she_ had retorted that he had been wearing flats.

He had laughed at the look she had given him and started to say that it would have been odd of him to wear heels when, suddenly, he realized that she was no longer standing beside him.

Just _where_ had that crowd come from?

Within a matter of minutes, the newlyweds had been dragged away in separate directions to be trussed up for the wedding reception.

And quite a reception it was indeed! Though he had expected the feast to be grand, he had never imagined anything of the sort. Lavish decorations, wonderful music, and enough food to possibly feed the entire population of Auldrant! Which was just as well since the entire populations of both Kimlasca _and_ Malkuth seemed to be in attendance.

He had thought that in between the congratulations from King Ingobert, Emperor Peony and the hundreds of other dignitaries (as well as some forced congratulations from Alpine and his son and several other nobles) that he would at least be able to talk to her. But, to his dismay, he had found it a difficult thing to lean over and talk to her when the majority of eyes in the room seemed to be fixed on the two of them.

Oh. Right.

Mental note: revenge on Luke for the embarrassing speech.

(He was already considering what to say at the red-head's wedding which was still a month or two away. And considering he'd pretty much raised Luke, he had _more_ than his share of stories to tell. But that was something he'd deal with later.)

At any rate, after several hours, the reception had finally come to an end. He had scanned the room, looking for any sign of her, only to discover that she had, once again, disappeared.

He had managed to slip out unnoticed, deciding that she had headed out into the garden for some fresh air when he saw no sign of her in the hallway, which led him to where he now found himself.

Turning, he glanced back towards the castle which radiated light and music, and, because Baticul was so high up, it seemed to be set against the stars. This palace—he mused—would soon become his home. He thought, for a moment of his manor, but quickly decided that, for him, home was where _she_ was.

He stood and turned to head back inside. After all, he had spent the better portion of the last hour searching to palace gardens for her, only to realize that she wasn't there.

Maybe she had retired for the evening. He would just check on her to make sure she was all right. A quick trip to her chambers, however, revealed that she was not, in fact, there, so, bewildered, he continued his search trying to find where she had gone to.

(The thought that she might—for whatever reason—be in the kitchen _had_ occurred to him. At that, he had wanted to run, but, to his relief, she was not there. It was the only place in the entire castle he was glad _not_ to find her.)

From one wing of the castle to the next he searched, but there was still no sign of her. In the end, he once again ended up in entry hall of the castle. He leaned against the stair rail and thought briefly about heading up to sleep himself but knew that he would not sleep until he at least knew where she was.

Maybe he would search upstairs one more time.

As he climbed the stairs, however, something caught his eye—something glittered on the landing. As he approached it, he realized what it was.

It was her pendant. The one she always wore.

He picked it up and turned it over in his hand. The metal of the pendant was still warm—as though she had just lost it. She had passed by here recently, but, which way had she gone? Had she headed to the upper floor or returned to the lower one? Was it possible to tell?

He looked around for some sign—any sign of her.

Unconciously, he gripped the pendant tighter in his hand.

_Please. Please show me the way._

Silence.

Then, footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs. He dared not hope it was her, so he waited for the person to pass, to go on their way and let him resume his search. And the footsteps did indeed continue—but they continued _towards_ him.

"There you are, Guy."

At this, he did indeed look up.

And there she was, standing a few stairs above him as though she had been waiting there for him all this time. The obvious flush on her cheeks and her general, bedraggled state, however, told him that she, like he, had been searching the palace.

His heart swelled at the thought that she might have been looking for him. The more likely explanation however, was that she was simply searching for her necklace.

He held the necklace out to her.

"I believe you lost something important," he said, gesturing towards the necklace.

She smiled, but to his surprise, did not even glance down at the proffered jewelry. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself against him.

"Yes, I did," she murmured into his chest, "but I've found it now."

The pendant slipped unnoticed to the floor as he returned the embrace. His heart was so full that he did not trust himself to speak further.

After a long moment, she reached up and twined her arms about his neck.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you," she asked pouting, "that if someone's searching for you, it's easier for them if you stay in one place?"

He chuckled and brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. "I should ask you the same thing, you know."

"How so?" she asked. "I went looking for you first. I didn't see you in the reception hall, so I thought you'd headed outside. But you weren't out there, so I came back in here to look."

He stared, astonished. "I went outside to look for you when I noticed _you_ weren't in the hall. I searched all over the place, but I couldn't find you. I was just about to head upstairs to search again."

"And I was about to head to the other wing of the castle when I didn't find you upstairs." She paused. "It looks like we just kept missing each other. If I hadn't realized I'd lost then pendant, then I might not have come back this way."

"And if I hadn't stopped to pick it up," he said, just realizing what had happened, "I might have already headed upstairs and possibly been searching in a different part of the same floor…."

His words trailed off as they both turned to look at the piece of jewelry which lay, neglected on the ground.

"I remember," she mused, "when Luke first gave this to me—he said that he believed part of Asch's will still remained."

"Do you think this means he approves?" Guy asked with a grin.

She smiled. "I'd say that's a 'yes'. After all, if not for this pendant, we'd still be searching for each other, right?"

"Yeah." He paused. "But you know," he continued. "It would be unlikely that something like this would ever happened again."

She arched a skeptical eyebrow. "How so?"she asked.

"Because," he said as he pulled her closer and rested his forehead against hers, "you'll always know where to find me."

"And where is that?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"Right beside you," he replied as he closed the distance between them. _Forever and ever._

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_**And so goes their happily ever after…**_

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**Author's Note:**

Wow. I can't believe it's over. It seems like only last month that I started this fanfic, but it's been just about nine months now. Just like a pregnancy, lol. But, in many ways, this fic was like a child to me, more so than a pet project. I know, I know, it sounds dramatic, but that's really how I felt about this story. I had promised myself when I started this that I would see this through to the end, no matter what. Never once had I imagined the _fantastic_ response that I would get to this story!

Your support has meant so much to me over these past months. There were so many times that I hit roadblocks in this fic and, despite my promise to myself, felt like giving up. But when I remembered that there were people out there who wanted to read the next chapter of this fic, I knew that I couldn't just give up. Your support gave me the strength not only to break through the writer's block, but also to fight against my own innate tendency to leave things unfinished.

Even when I started pharmacy school and the work and exams started ramping up on me (I'm supposed to be studying for one as I speak, lol), your reviews and support reminded me that I could not just let this go—that there were people who wanted to see "The End". Thanks to you, I was able to finish this. Thank you all so much for not giving up on this story. Thank you for pushing me forward.

It seems like so long ago that I started this. It's strange to see how the story's evolved since then. It ended up being so much more different than my original outlines. I can't even begin to describe the differences. But I'm happy with how this turned out. I think it's better than my original plan.

Still, wow. I can't believe it's finished. Well, I've got the sequels to work on now. I'll have to do that in my spare time, but I'll do my best to get it done for your sakes.

Again, thank you so much for all your support these past twenty-five chapters and nearly 150 pages. I could never have done it without you!

--Seraphim Starlight--


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